


A darker side of ecstasy

by Cattuesmountain



Category: Reign (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Blindfolds, Domestic Discipline, Dominance, Drama & Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hurts So Good, I Don't Even Know, Love/Hate, Married Life, Naked Female Clothed Male, Obedience, Punishment, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Spanking, Tied To A Bed, Why Did I Write This?, female sub, male dom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2020-10-30 06:08:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20809808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cattuesmountain/pseuds/Cattuesmountain
Summary: Henry is willing to spare his wife's life after finding her guilty of adultery and treason. But only at a certain price. Is Catherine de Medici willing to pay this price?This story contains elements of BDSM.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DeMediciQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeMediciQueen/gifts).

> I can't believe I'm not only writing, but also posting this. I must be crazy...

Disclaimer: "Reign" or the characters used in it are not mine, sad but true :-( Violations of any rights are not intended.  
Pairing: Catherine/Henry – Cathry  
Rating: NC-17 Baby, explicit content, elements of BDSM  
Catergory: Romance, Drama, Sex  
Summery: Henry is willing to spare his wife's life after finding her guilty of adultery and treason. But only at a certain price. Is Catherine de Medici willing to pay this price?  
Personal remarks: Forgive me for letting this get out of control. I'm guilty as charged. But the more I think about it – Issi is to blame. ;o)

A darker side of ecstasy

Chapter 1

"We need to talk," Francesca de Medici demanded and entered Henry's study unannounced. With a portentous expression on her face, the older woman planted herself in front of the King of France.  
Henry Valois slowly rose from his chair and dismissed his court scribe with a wave of his hand.  
"I'm sure your niece inherited the bad habit of entering a room without asking from your side of the family," Henry commented about her bad manners and regarded the woman with a disapproving glare. With her narrow face, the thin lips and her elegant yet dull black dress, Francesca looked more like a rigorous governess than an Italian duchess. 

"You are planning the execution of aforementioned niece, which leaves little time to conform to etiquette." This answer could just as well have come out of his wife's mouth. Even if both women's clothing style differed significantly, they definitely had their sharp tongues in common.  
"So that's what brought you here? You want to beg for mercy on Catherine's behalf?" A knowing smile spread across Henry's face while uttering these words.  
"A Medici never begs. I'm here to remind you of the privileges the House of Valois savours from being linked to the Medici family by marriage. And to remind you how close the Medici are to the Holy See in Rome."  
"How could I ever forget. But do I need to remind you how the Church feels about adultery? A crime your niece - my wife - is guilty of. A crime that implies treason."

"If you were free from iniquity, I might understand why you're asking for Catherine's head. But a King who is known far beyond the borders of France for his profligate lifestyle can hardly invoke the violation of his moral principles."  
"So you're suggesting that I allow Catherine's misdemeanour to go unpunished?" Henry laughed without mirth and stepped around his desk. "You think just because your family's blood runs through Catherine's veins, because she's a Medici, she can get away with everything?"  
Henry's voice had taken on a dangerous tone. And even if the Italian felt his change of mood, she still seemed unimpressed by it, for she stepped forward and towards her opponent, her chin raised stubbornly.  
"You think her misdemeanour needs to be atoned for?" The same defiance he had seen shimmering in Catherine's soulful eyes countless times before, lay now in Francesca's dark eyes. "Well, then go ahead. But choose another punishment in lieu of the deadly strike of an axe."

"You're asking me for Catherine's life after all?" Henry grinned smugly at his wife's relative and turned his back on her to look out of the window instead. "If Catherine holds her life so dear, why isn't she the one who's asking for mercy? Why is she using you as her applicant?"  
Henry actually knew why her mirthless relativ and not his stubborn wife was standing in front of him. For if Catherine were in Francesca's place, the both of them would already be yelling at each other, which would significantly diminish her chances to placate her cuckold.  
"Because Catherine doesn't know I'm here." Her announcement surprised the King of France and prompted him to drive around in order to face Francesca. Henry scrutinized the older woman in wonder, who was holding herself up with the same majestic arrogance his wife displayed so often. She withstood his piercing gaze without loosing ground.  
Here it was again, that damned Medici pride.

"So you came to me behind your niece's back to ask me to convert the death sentence into another, less deadly form of punishment? Tell me, what exactly do you have in mind? A banishment from court cannot be in your or Catherine's interest. So what else? Ah, I see. A public flogging. The kind of punishment adulterous wifes of commoners receive. Naked, tied to a post, feeling the eyes of hundreds of sensation-seekers upon their helpless bodies." Henry stopped for the sake of a dramatic pause before continuing. "Before being subjected to such humiliation, Catherine would rather die by her own hand!" 

In his heart of hearts, Henry didn't want to kill his wife. But her actions forced him to do so. For she had not only betrayed him, her King and husband, Catherine had also tried to assassinate the Scottish Queen. Not to mention her numerous attempts to harm his bastard son Sebastian. She was literally forcing him to take hard action and he couldn't show mercy if he didn't want to lose his own face. 

"That's what you want to do? You want to chastise your wife for being unfaithful? Fine. Then do it." Henry stared at Francesca in bewilderment. Had he just heard what he thought he'd heard? Did Francesca actually propose her niece's public punishment? 

Before he could react to this monstrosity, the Italian woman raised her hand in an instructive gesture.  
"But behind closed doors and out of the public eye."  
"Behind closed doors? Do you seriously believe that Catherine will agree to such a thing and obediently endure her punishment?"  
The very idea that his temperamental wife would accept - obediently and willingly - any kind of punishment he deemed appropriate, was so absurd that Henry couldn't suppress his laughter.  
"She will, if that is what you wish for. She will obey, I personally will see to that." An ice-cold expression clouded Francesca's eyes and the grim harshness of her gaze made Henry involuntarily shudder. He didn't even want to imagine how the older Medici planned to make her younger relative obey to his demands. 

The general idea however of punishing Catherine for cuckolding him, of breaking her sturdy will and pride for even one single minute, excited him beyond all measure.  
Playful punishments aroused him, especially those of a sexual nature, and this kind of pleasure was anything but foreign to him. Only his wife had never played an active role in such a scenario before. And to this day he hadn't even thought about introducing her to these kind of games. But the more he thought about it, the more fascinated he became by the idea of making Catherine bow to his will.  
The idea alone was enough to make his trousers get uncomfortably tight near his crotch area. 

In addition, this kind of punishment had another, even more weightily benefit. It gave him the opportunity to spare Catherine's life.  
For a moment Henry lost himself in this wonderful pretence, but then he came to his senses and willed himself to self-restraint.  
"No, this would make me look weak or fickle. Like a man – a King - who's not keeping his own word and allows his wife to walk all over him again and again," Henry said, deeply lost in thought. He could not afford to be mislead by his hyperactive libido in this matter. 

"I understand," Francesca replied with a sinister expression. He looked at her and could tell that she was thinking hard about what else to offer him.  
Henry's thoughts, on the other hand, still circled around the tempting possibility of subdueing Catherine. This very notion made his pulse race and brought a desire to light he hadn't experienced for so long. 

Incited by his arousal, Henry asked himself how to spare his wife's life without losing face on one hand and teaching Catherine with all necessary severity that he would no longer tolerate her unconscionable behaviour with impunity on the other hand. And while the King was thinking hard about his dilemma, all of a sudden the solution fell like scales from his eyes.  
"Unless, of course, Catherine publicly begs for forgiveness in front of my privy council and thus offers me an opportunity to show her mercy and magnanimousness," Henry pondered and vocalised the flash of inspiration that had come upon him. An idea that would allow him to get satisfaction, spare Catherine's life and grant him a very special pleasure in addition. 

Francesca vehemently shook her head upon hearing his proposal.  
"No way. A Medici never...", Henry reduced the distance between himself and his wife's relative until he could feel her stale breath against his skin. Then he interrupted her with an imperious gesture.  
"I'm pretty sure that even a Medici can learn humbleness. Catherine once begged my father on her knees to abide our marriage. Now she has the opportunity to beg for her life on her knees and to ask me for forgiveness. These are my conditions. You have the permission to visit my wife and tell her about my offer. Now leave, you're dismissed."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"That's what you call food? I may be a prisoner, but I am still your QUEEN!" Catherine threw the bowl with its foul-smelling contents forcefully against the wall of her cell. With satisfaction she watched how the viscous, grayish mass slowly ran down the naked stones. 

At that very moment, the door of her cell was being unlocked, causing Catherine to jump up in alarm.   
"Then I suggest you behave like one. After all, you are not only the Queen of France, you are also a Medici." Her aunt's reproachful voice echoed from the walls of her dimly lit cell and her frosty tone made the imprisoned Queen shudder. Nevertheless, Catherine forced herself to put on a confident smile.  
"Francesca! Thank goodness, it's you. Were you able to..."   
"Be quiet!" The elder woman commanded and Catherine fell silent. Not because she was about to obey her aunt's order, but rather because the unauthorised insolence her relative displayed left her speechless. 

"You're guilty of adultery."  
"Like so many before me. The Medici, too, have entertained secret love affairs. Married ones and popes included. Not to mention Henry, who now wallows in self-pity and invokes his supposed wounded feelings." Catherine glared at her aunt angrily.

"This may be true, but YOU got caught and this is by far your greatest offence. With your misconduct you have exasperated your husband in the extreme. The man who can make you lose your head at the snap of a finger." With a stern expression on her thin face, Francesca had built herself up in front of her much smaller niece and balefully tried to stare her down.  
"Once I have defamed Sebastian..."   
The elder Medici interrupted Catherine once again.   
"You have failed eliminating your husband's bastard, likewise Queen Mary. And the child you thought would help us getting rid of Sebastian proved to be completely useless. You are defeated, Caterina." 

But Catherine didn't want to avow herself beaten. Not in front of her aunt and certainly not in front of Henry.   
"Nothing is lost yet."  
"No, you have lost." Francesca made a halting gesture with her right hand. "That's why from now on I will take matters into my own hands. Henry is angry and displeased with your behaviour. He craves amends."   
"Oh yes, I bet he does. But this isn't the first time Henry is angry about something I did." 

Catherine wouldn't be so sure of herself if not for that one night a few days ago where they had made sweet and passionate love. This encounter had shown her that even if her husband did not love her anymore, he at least felt some old familiar sentiments towards his wife. Even though they were not as intense as they were at the beginning of their marriage, he still felt some affection for her.   
She had to admit that her affair with Richard had come to light at the most critical moment. Not to mention with the worst possible outcome.   
But their night of passion had weakened his decision to get rid of her. She had seen the uncertainty in his eyes. 

Yes, she had hurt Henry's feelings. Wounded his pride and male ego and he would probably keep her in suspense and locked into her cell for a few more days. But he would not decapitate her. At least that's what she told herself. 

"Angry isn't exactly how I'd put it. Mad as hell would be more applicable. Your husband killed your lover in cold blood without even batting an eye. His former best friend."  
The mention of Richard's name made Catherine swallow hard.   
Henry's violent reaction had shocked her and her heart ached when she thought about the cruel fate the only man who had ever unconditionally loved her had found. 

"He intends to bring your case to the Church Tribunal. And they will surely find you guilty," Francesca told her casually. When Catherine tried to raise an objection, the older Medici woman rudely cut her short once again.   
"An endeavour I was able to prevent. At a certain price."  
Only now did the older woman allow her niece to speak up again. 

"I beg you pardon? What kind of price? Am I right to assume that I am the person who is supposed to pay that price?" Catherine asked in outrage, whereupon Francesca only shrugged her shoulders.   
"Who else? You are responsible for the mess you're in right now. I could save our family a lot of trouble by letting things take their course. Not to forget the disgrace that might fall upon the house of Medici. So no one would blame me if I would decide to offer you this little present."  
Francesca took a small box out of her skirt's pocket and let it snapp open with a soft klicking noise. 

"Oh I see. Poison. Not as vulgar as an axe, drenched in my blood," Catherine concluded while staring at the content of the box. Defiantly she reached for the casket. But her aunt beat her to it by letting it snap shut again and sliding it back into the widths of her skirts before Catherine could even touch the box.   
"I love you, Caterina. So listen to me carefully, child. You will bend your knee before your husband and in front of his privy council. Then you will ask for forgiveness. And for mercy."

Catherine's eyes widened in surprise. But then she caught herself and shook her head with vehemence.   
"That's completely out of question," she protested. "The blood of the Medici runs through my veins. I will certainly not..."  
"YES you will. Just like you did before Henry's father, King Francis. This very image puts me off, I have to tell you, child, even if it prevented you from losing your husband and your crown at that time. I'm afraid that even the blood of the Medici running through our veins can't prevent us from making certain sacrifices every once in a while. You must have fathomed that as well. Otherwise you wouldn't have knelt before King Francis. And you will do it again. With all necessary dignity and without bringing shame to your family." 

Francesca slowly came towards the Queen of France and clasped the younger woman's chin between her long, thin fingers.   
"Afterwards your husband will chasten you in any way he considers appropriate for the malfeasance you've been guilty of. And you will accept and bear this punishment with dignity."  
"Chasten me? Good Lord, have Henry and you lost your mind?" Catherine asked with a cracked voice and freed herself from her aunt's grip to stare at her in bewilderment. 

"Don't be so melodramatic. You are a Medici, we can even resist torture without losing grace. Besides, your punishment will be sub rosa."   
The Queen of France violently shook her head. She would certainly not expose herself to such humiliation voluntarily, nor would she beg for her life on her knees. And she would definitely not expose herself to torture.   
"I'd rather prefer death", she announced defiantly and held out her hand for the poison her aunt had shown her earlier. 

"No you don't. I know you, Caterina. You don't want to die. For this would leave your children unprotected and alone. Without the support of the Medici and at the mercy of your husband's and his power-hungry mistress's whims. And what will become of Francis?"  
Catherine swallowed hard at the mention of her eldest son - Henry's true and legitimate heir. Her heart arched when thinking about her golden boy. Mary's intrigue had not only robbed him of his bride, but also of his predestinated future.   
"How will you be able to help Francis reclaiming his titel and his place in the world when you're dead? You can't do anything as long as you are imprisoned in the tower. Henry holds your children's future in his hands and the only way back into his good grace leads you over the path of humbleness and submission. Do not let pride and fear mislead you, child." 

"I'm not afraid," Catherine protested angrily, which put a wolfish smile on her aunt's face.   
"Good for you, but don't show him your lack of fear. Henry wants to see submission in your eyes and be assured - at the bottom of his heart he welcomes this kind of reprimand since he doesn't want to kill you. He just wants to punish you. So show him what he wants to see and I am sure that your pride will suffer more damage than your body. Your husband is a bon vivant with a weakness for the fairer sex. Use this information for your own purposes, if you understand what I mean."

Having said what she had to say, Francesca de Medici turned on her heel and banged against the door with her flat hand. The heavy door was instantaneously opened from the outside and a second later Catherine was left alone in her cell.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Go on, I don't have all day. What's next on our agenda?" Henry growled and regarded the members of his privy council in disdain. Lord Boutin, who was sitting on his left, rose to speak. But his tiresome monologue could only capture the King's attention for a few minutes before it drifted away. As it did so often these days. Away from the concerns and needs of his privy council and towards the woman he called his wife.   
The ultimatum he had given her would run out within this hour and with every second that elapsed - tenacious like a sticking clockwork - his fear that Catherine would choose the deadly path of perdition grew, contrary to Francesca's assurances that Catherine would submit to his will. 

The moment Henry feared that he was slowly but surely losing his mind, the heavy doors of the conference room opened and his court marshal appeared. The old man's face was an insecure mask of great concern.

"Your Majesty, forgive my intrusion, but your wife wants to see you and she is very..." The obese marshal hesitated briefly, as if searching for the most diplomatic word to use.   
„... determining", he came up with and prompted Henry to laugh out loud in amusement.   
"Yes, that she is," he confirmed and some of the lords joined in his laughter. Just like Henry they knew from first hand experiences that Catherine was not only determining in her behaviour, some of them even feared his Medici wife. These poor wimps. 

"Let her in," he said after silently calling himself to order. The fear that had dominated Henry's thinking up to this moment gave way to tense excitement that sped up his heartrate. He stared at the door spellbound, through which his wife stepped only a second later.   
"Henry, Gentlemen," even though Catherine seemed calm and collected on the outside, the slight tremor of her voice couldn't escape Henry's attention. 

His eyes scanned her appearance. Her look couldn't possibly be more majestic. His wife was wearing a red robe whose wide skirts were adorned with elaborate embroidery. Her dress had a high yet nearly see-through collar and her sleeves were made of finest lace. Today Catherine had chosen an elegant crown that was decorated with rubies.   
To his surprise, Catherine was also wearing the golden necklace he had given her on their tenth wedding anniversary. A custom-made piece of jewellery that had been commissioned especially for her. He hadn't seen it on Catherine's neck for years. 

Henry wondered if she had chosen this piece of jewellery for a special purpose. But what was she trying to tell him? Was this her way of reminding him that she was still his wife and that he had loved her once? Henry was more than aware of these two facts. Something he didn't need to be reminded of. 

"What is it, Catherine?" he therefore asked her more harshly than intended. The look she threw his way was annihilating, but Henry merely raised an eyebrow. His fingers impatiently drummed on the table before him as if she was straining his patience. If she had expected him to make concessions or even help her, she was grievously mistaken.   
He even briefly thought he saw that familiar expression consisting of stubbornness and defiance flashing up in her eyes, but then Catherine lowered her gaze as if recollecting and reminding herself of her imminent task.   
When his wife looked up again, the defiance had disappeared from her eyes.

"I am here to ask for your forgiveness, husband." Catherine was looking bankly ahead. Then she slowly walked towards him, only to sink down on her knees in the most graceful way once she had reached the center of the room. Not even for a split second was she losing her composure and her posture was an allegory of charm and humility. 

His wife's dramatic appearance caused some whispering and wondering among his councillors, but Henry ignored their reaction. His full attention was focused to his wife, who knelt before him with her head slightly bowed. 

And although Catherine was doing what he had asked her to do, he still couldn't shake off his amazement. Henry ran his fingers over his shaved head in irritation and wondered what exactly it was that disturbed him about this picture. He had expected to feel some satisfaction once she was kneeling before him, but in her wide skirts framing her like the crimson leaves of a rosebud, Catherine looked as majestic as ever and by no means like a remorseful adulteress. 

Henry shook his head as if this gesture could bring clarity to his woolly thoughts. Then he slowly rose and reduced the distance between them. Only when his boottips touched the hem of her skirts did he halt. He hesitated briefly, then he reached out and grasped Catherine's chin to force her to look him straight in the eye.   
"Forgiveness for what exactly?" he asked, knowing full well why she was kneeling before him. But he wanted to hear it coming from her.   
"For somthing I am guilty of that happened nearly two decades ago - in a weak and lonely moment that ..." Henry's fingers increased the pressure around her chin to admonish her. He wouldn't let her hide behind excuses that might end up making him look bad.   
„... led me to commit adultery." 

Henry slowly released his fingers from her chin and nodded, deeply lost in thoughts as if he had to ponder over what he had just heard.   
He regarded the men present, who had unwittingly witnessed this historic moment. Most of the noblemen tried for a neutral expression, a few even looked to the side once they realized that their King's gaze grazed them. But on some faces he detected curiosity, satisfaction and even compassion. 

With a thoughtful expression on his own face, the King of France walked along the line of his councillors, before turning around and returning to his wife, who was still kneeling in the center of the room. Henry slowly circumambulated her, not missing the slightest muscle twitch in her face. When he returned to stand in front of her, he stroked her cheek tenderly.   
"You betrayed me, your husband and King. You know what this means, don't you?" His hard words were accompanied by a coldness that did not match his gentle touch at all.   
"High treason," Catherine replied tonelessly and Henry nodded in confirmation. 

"And what do you expect me to do now?"  
"I appeal to your clemency as well as your mercy, my Lord." Even now, kneeling before him and asking for her life, Catherine de Medici was still more dignified and prouder than any woman he had ever met.   
How did she do that? 

"Were there others besides Richard?" Henry asked against his better judgment.   
"No." Catherine's answer came without hesitation and the King breathed a sigh of relief.   
"Good," he growled and grabbed her chin like he did before.   
"And there will never be another man. For you are MY wife and MY Queen. Have I made myself clear, Catherine?"  
"Crystal clear, husband." Her voice sounded firm and Catherine returned his gaze with an intensity that accelerated his pulse. But behind her mask of humbleness and remorse, he detected the desire for rebellion shimmering in her expressive eyes.

With her role as repentant adulteresses she could maybe fool the members of his privy council, but certainly not him. In secret he was actually pleased that Catherine had neither lost her dignity nor her fighting spirit, even if she found herself in a humiliating situation like this. In fact, he found it extremely appealing.   
And she would learn her lesson in humbleness and remorse soon enough. Without an audience.   
The stage he had prepared her here only served to save his face when he spared her life despite the gravity of her offence. 

"I like your submissiveness, woman." Henry let go of Catherine's chin and approached his french Lords instead. As if lost in thought he scratched his chin, then he announced:   
"Allright, I will temper justice with mercy."   
The King of France slowly turned on his heels to returned to his kneeling wife. Henry reached for one of the curls that gently framed her face.   
"This mercy, however, comes with conditions attached. Are you willing to acknowledge them?" 

"Conditions of what kind?" Catherine failed to hide the suspicion from her voice and her reaction sparked a grim smile on Henry's face.   
"That's irrelevant. You'll find out soon enough. So do you agree?" To make her realize the predicament she found herself in, Henry grabbed Catherine's upper arms and fitfully pulled her up from her kneeling position. He didn't even have to point out the alternative she could choose instead.   
With her lips tightly pressend together and angry fervour flaring up in her dark eyes, he realized that his wife was all too aware of her hopeless situation.   
"I agree," she pressed out tensely.

Henry nodded in agreement, but he did not let go of Catherine. Not yet.  
"Excellent. Then I expect you in my chambers tonight to introduce you to my conditions. You can leave now, Catherine." With these words he released his wife and turned his attention back to the lords present.   
"Where were we, gentlemen?"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

With an uneasy feeling in her stomach and framed by two of her husband's guards, Catherine de Medici left her bedchamber. After her abasing performance in the throne room, Henry had generously allowed her to leave the tower and return to her chambers. Even though she was still under arrest and forbidden to either see her children or her ladies, let alone any member of her flying squadron.  
But Henry had granted her at least a meal and a hot bath. A small luxury and a gesture of good will for sure, but it hadn't helped her relax. 

Not when she was about to be punished for adultery and committing treason in any way Henry considered appropriate. The Lord alone knew what cruelties her husband may come up with. 

In spite of the tension she could feel in every muscle of her body, Catherine gave her best to not let her nervousness show. She wasn't willing to grant her husband or his guards the satisfaction of seeing her come undone. Especially since Henry's own moral conception was questionable at best. 

When they finally reached Henry's chambers, the Queen of France hesitated for a second to prepare herself and call herself to order.   
"Your Grace?" the older of the two guards questioningly looked at her as if he didn't know if he was actually allowed to address her. Catherine gave him an ungracious glare, then she straightened her shoulders and pushed open the heavy doors that lead to her husband's chambers.

Henry, who was sitting on the cushioned windowsill at the other end of the room, silently staring out into the interior courtyard, turned his head towards her. Then he rose.   
"Catherine," he said quietly, but there was this strange, almost menacing undertone in his voice that instantly increased her nervousness and made her skin crawl. 

Her husband wore a light shirt that was partly open and showed off his impressive pecs. Black leather pants and heavy boots completed his outfit. 

Henry slowly stalked her, but to her surprise he stopped in the middle of the room to openly stare at her with an intensity that nearly caused Catherine's knees to buckle. It cost her tremendous effort not to draw back under his intense gaze. In a whiff of defiantness she raised her chin, staring motionless at her husband with her head held high. 

"You may go now," Henry instructed his guards. "I'm not to be disturbed."  
"Come closer!" He ordered with a harshness in his voice that had zero tolerance for contradictions once the men had left the room. 

When she did not react immediately to his command, Henry's posture changed. He now looked like a cat of prey lurking in cover, highly alert and ready to attack.  
"Don't make me repeat myself, woman!" His voice had gained even more sharpness and the dangerous twinkle in his eyes caused Catherine to take a first cautious step towards his direction.   
"Closer," he barked without moving from where he was standing.

"Henry, I think...," Catherine started but was abruptly interrupted by her angry husband before she could even verbalise her train of thought.  
"BE QUIET! From now on, you will only speak when you're allowed to." The fierceness of his outbreak made the Queen of France flinch. A reaction that put a smug grin on Henry's face.   
"Now get over here," he ordered and this time she moved without hesitation.   
When Catherine was standing right in front of her husband, Henry bent down to her and whispered softly into her ear:   
"On your knees." 

This demand excited an inner battle deep within her. For Catherine loathed sinking to her knees in front of Henry, since doing so in the seclusion of his chambers would make her submission even more intimate and shameful. And while she was still struggling with herself, Henry grabbed her shoulders and pressed her down to her knees by sheer force.  
"I told you to get on your knees!" He angrily growled and Catherine gasped in shock at this display of roughness. Her heart jumped up into her throat and she thought she could hear her own blood rushing through her veins. 

"Henry, what are you..."  
"What did I just tell you?" The threat in his voice caused the fine hair in her neck to raise in alarm. So Catherine dug her hands into her wide skirts while she forced herself to take a long and deep breath. But before she could breath out the air she had been holding, Henry's fingers grasped her chin and he forced her to look up at him.   
"I see, stubborn as ever. There is a lot of work waiting for me."   
As abruptly as he had reached for her chin, Henry released her again. 

Catherine's eyes followed his every movement when Henry devoutly circled her. Then he went over to the low table in his seating area. Her eyes widened in horror once she realized what it was that was laying there on the table.   
"Oh, I see. You've discovered the instruments of your upcoming punishment."   
This realization seemed to amuse Henry, while the displayed instruments awoke a sense of fear in Catherine that threatened to paralyze her.  
For on the table in front of her lay a whip, a cane and Henry's well used and slightly worn-out riding crop. The odour of fear that was spreading more and more through her whole body made Catherine open her mouth in protest. But before she could even mutter one single sound, Henry's face, that was wearing a warning expression, came back into her field of vision.

"Hush, Catherine. Didn't you pay any attention to what I've just told you?" He asked her and it took Catherine a moment before she understood what he was hinting at. 

"May I ask a question?" Her voice sounded less firm than she had strived for.  
"Oh, you're learning fast," her husband rejoiced, while Catherine was still trying to understand the rules of this strange encounter that only Henry seemed to know.   
"You may," he granted her generously.   
"You were speaking about conditions. Conditions that I had to agree to but that I don't know yet." 

Henry made a thoughtful face but he purposely failed to give her an answer. Instead he walked around her once again. When Catherine made an effort to turn she felt his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to remain motionless in her kneeling position.   
"All in good time, my darling," his voice came from behind her while his hands were tampering with the clips and pins that were holding her hair up. When her red-blonde curls cascaded down her shoulders, her husband made a sound of entrancement.   
"That's way better," he murmured. 

"That doesn't answer my question." She knew that she was walking on thin ice if she continued to contradict her husband. But how else should she deal with this situation if she didn't even know what Henry expected from her? Yes, he was acting like an alpha male, that for sure was clear. And he seemed to have not only her punishment but also her submission in mind.   
But his true motives remained a mystery to her. Catherine only knew that if she wanted to beat him in this game, she at least had to know the rules.  
"Well technically that wasn't even a question. And you're in no position to make demands, Catherine. You will have to learn to obey. Now get up." She followed this order without hesitation since her knees had started to hurt. 

When she was standing again, his hands pushed her towards the table.  
"You may choose your instrument of punishment, darling. Either 7 strokes with the whip, 15 with the cane or 30 strokes with my riding crop. And no matter which options you choose, don't think I'll hold back."

Catherine shuddered in discomfort and stared at the instruments of torture that were intended for her. She knew that even one single, violent lash of a whip was enough to rip one's flesh off. 7 lashes sounded like a minor punishment but it was enough to turn her back into a bloody mess of welts. Welts that for sure would turn into ugly scars over time. No, the whip was out of question.  
That left her with either the cane or the crop. 

A severe blow with the cane could also tear the skin open. A blow with the crop, on the other hand, would certainly hurt and make her skin swell, but it wouldn't leave lasting damage.   
"I'm waiting." Henry reminded her.

"Henry, you can't be serious. I...", she started again but didn't get a chance to finish, for her husband and King interrupted her as he had so often this evening.  
"Alright, you asked for it. The stakes have increased. 14 strokes with the whip, 30 with the cane or 60 with the crop. With every further word, with every hesitation, the count of strokes doubles. You don't want to know what I'm capable of, Catherine! Now choose!"

Shocked by his words, Catherine's hands went to her chest where she felt her own heart literally hammering against her ribs.   
"The crop," she whispered breathlessly, frightened at how insecure and fragile her voice sounded.

"Fine, the crop it is. A good choice I might say. A crop is much more personal than a whip or a cane... And now: undress." This order prompted Catherine to drive around to fully face Henry. He just looked at her in a lurking way, as if waiting for another sign of disobedience to double her punishment once again. 

Reluctant and with trembling fingers Catherine reached behind her neck to loosen the lacing of her dress, not willing to give him the satisfaction of unnecessarily prolonging her suffering.   
She mentally forced herself to calm down her nerves and let her robe slide down her shoulders, which glided gently down her body and gathered around her feet like a puddle of red silk and brocade.   
Then she looked at Henry in defiant expectation.  
"Go on," he urged her. 

These two words caused her heart rate to increase. Something deep inside urged her to leave his chambers this instant to put an end to this madness.   
But she dared no further resistance. If necessary, Henry would beat her to death just to teach her a lesson and to prove his point. So at this moment Catherine decided to bow to his will to be able to walk out of here in one piece. She could get through this. For she had already survived worse situations. 

She took a deep breath and lifted the hem of her undergarment to take it off. Which left her standing naked in the middle of the room, only wearing knee-high stockings and pointed heels. Her husband just stood there, forcing her to withstand him shamelessly staring at her.   
She felt vulnerable under his intense gaze and the fact that Henry was fully clothed while she was standing before him stark naked didn't exactly help her to calm her nerves. Or mentally prepare herself for the things that were yet to come.

"Go over to the chaise longue," Henry ordered next and pointed at the antique piece of furniture. With wobbly knees, Catherine stepped around the table and went over to the couch. She couldn't help but stare at the crop while passing.   
"Bend over the armrest, elbows on the seating." This instruction made her hesitate for a moment. Did he really expect her to present herself to him in such a scandalous way? The position would not only expose her back, but above all it would expose her buttocks in the most vulgar way.  
"For me it makes no difference if I whip your ass 60 or 120 times, Catherine." Henry had approached the table and reached for the crop. With a stern expression on his face he let it flap against his open palm as if testing it.   
The hissing noise made his wife flinch. 

There was already a word of protest on her tongue, but she recollect herself and swallowed it along with the heavy lump in her throat. She wasn't willing to give Henry another reason to double her punishment, not again. So she shook her head and slowly put one foot in front of the other to cover the last remaining meters. She stopped right in front of the sofa, briefly closed her eyes in a silent prayer and bent over the expansive backrest.

The hard wood under her belly felt cold and uncomfortable, as did the edges that mercilessly dugged into her flesh. Catherine concentrated on taking deep breaths and silently fought back the fear of feeling helpless. This was by far the most shameful moment in her entire life.   
"Very nice", Henry appeared right behind her and when he let one of his hands glide over her back, Catherine flinched under his touch. Her reaction prompted him to chuckle softly.   
"You should try to relax," he advised her while his rough hands glided almost tenderly over her round buttocks. 

Then all of a sudden Henry smacked her ass with his flat hand.  
"Lets get over with it, shall we? I hope you're ready."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Catherine involuntarily held her breath and tried to prepare her body for the inevitable by sheer willpower.  
"You will count out loud the first 30 strokes. If you miscount or if you forget to count, I will start over again." Henry paused and caressed her skin with the swatter at the end of the crop. "Did you hear me?"  
Catherine hesitated briefly before she answered with a fatalistic "Yes". 

As soon as the word passed her lips, Henry started to tap her backside in a light yet quick sequence of strokes with his crop that was without namable hardship. And while Catherine asked herself when her husband would start with the real punishment, she heard the telltale hissing in the air that announced the first blow. A split second later a hard stroke hit her left ass cheek. Catherine could barely suppress crying out loud while a burning hot pain spread all over her buttocks. Her husband didn't give her a chance to get used to the sensation but let his crop dance all over her other cheek the way he did before.  
"Catherine?" There was the hint of a threat in Henry's voice.  
"One," she said quickly and prepared herself for a second blow. Henry didn’t keep her waiting for too long and his crop hit her skin a few seconds later just as hard as it did before which prompted Catherine to wince. But even now no cry of pain left her lips.  
"Two," she counted stoically, not willing to give her husband more satisfaction than necessary, who was already striking out for his next blow.  
"Three."

Several minutes later

Full of fascination, Henry stared at Catherine and her buttocks that turned redder with each blow. His fingers tickled with desire to stroke over the heated skin. He longed for the moment he was going to examine the result of her corporal punishment in detail. But that would have to wait. His wife wasn’t ready yet. 

The sight of her was like a divine revelation. One that made the leather of his trousers feel incredibly tight all of a sudden. Never before had he seen his proud wife in such a submissive position. With a self-satisfied smile on his lips, Henry struck out once again and let his crop flick down on her maltreated ass.  
"Twenty-eight," his wife counted out of breath and the slight trembling of her voice did not escape his attention. Nor did the way her body reared up under the force of the blow.  
Yet still no sound of pain left her lips. ...though it became more difficult to stay silent with each additional stroke...this he could tell by her tense posture.  
It wouldn’t be long before even this resistance would break. 

Henry struck out once again and the leather of his riding crop painfully embraced her skin.

With the next blow he aimed at exactly the same spot, which finally prompted Catherine to cry out loud in pain. Satisfied with the result of his efforts, Henry slowly bent down to her.  
"Music to my ears, doll, but haven't you forgotten something? It would be a shame if I had to start all over again at this point," he whispered into her ear.  
"Thirty," she said doughty and Henry had to admire her self-control. He knew Catherine and he knew that a snappish remark was for sure laying on her tongue, but she was clever enough to hold it back. 

Henry therefore grinned smugly and let his hands glide over the hot flesh of her buttocks. Besides the heat her skin gave off, he also felt Catherine stiffen at his touch. He ignored her uneasiness and started on working her ass for several minutes until she relaxed her body under his hands. But when his fingers slipped between her thighs, he could feel his wife stiffen up again and her body started to tremble beneath him.  
"Spread your legs", he quietly ordered and when she did not react immediately, he firmly slapped her with the flat of his hand on the right buttock. "I told you to spread your legs, Catherine!"  
After a short hesitation she followed his order and opened her thighs slightly. Henry sighed, then he reached for her thighs and impatiently tore them further apart.  
His rough treatment elicited a sound of protest from her lips, but her reluctance didn’t bother the King of France at all.  
What would now follow was his favorite part by far. 

These first 30 strokes were meant as a warning. They were Catherine’s punishment for committing adultery and treason.  
But the next 30 strokes represented her sexual submission. She would now learn to crave pleasure in her pain. And that from now on he, her King and husband, would rule over her – in mind and body. 

Henry had given her punishment an awful lot of thought in the past hours and he had come to the conclusion that if he did it right, Catherine's submission would give them both unimaginable pleasures. 

It was a piece of cake to dominate whores or naive young girls like Kenna. His Medici wife, however, was in a league of her own. And for this very reason her submission would be all the sweeter.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Spread your legs!"  
Shocked by this command, every fiber in Catherine's body stiffened. Surrendering her naked body to this humiliating punishment was one thing, but the order Henry was giving her now was of unspeakable vulgarity. 

Henry didn’t take her refusal well, for he struck her maltreated backside with the flat of his hand, which prompted the Queen of France to cry out startled.  
"I told you to spread your legs, Catherine!" Henry repeated with the same severity in his voice he had used to force her on her knees and to undress. 

Stung by uncertainty, she coyly opened her clenched legs. A wave of shame steamrolled over her the moment she envisioned the sight she had to be. Without warning, her husband grabbed her thighs and roughly tore them wider apart.  
Catherine closed her eyes in despair while wondering how Henry would react if she took flight this very moment. 

"Way better. Stay like this," he told her and stroked her left buttock with the swatter of his riding crop. But when the crop wandered down towards her pubic area, Catherine involuntarily held her breath. Surely Henry would not dare to...  
"Oh", she gasped in shock when the leather first brushed her labia and then started petting her clitoris.  
"Henry!" she groaned helplessly and tried to get up. But her husband restrained her from doing so by forcefully holding her down. 

"It’s time for your lesson, my darling wife", he whispered into her ear and brought the swatter to her opening. Then he teased her by spreading her labia with his crop and running his fingers over the most intimate parts of her body. And while the fingers of one of his hands were occupied with caressing the delicate skin between her legs, she heard an unmistakable hissing noise in the air.  
A split second later, the crop hit her right buttock with full force.  
"Thirty-one," Henry counted out loud. "For cheating on me," he added and pursued fondling her labia with his striking tool. Meanwhile his fingers circuited her clitoris. 

Catherine was fighting hard to suppress the impulse of shamelessly pressing her body against his fingers. It had been ages since other hands than hers had touched and stimulated her in such an intimate way. And when Henry's fingers finally touched her sensitive bud and squeezed it tightly, she was no longer able to control her body that reared up against his. 

At the same time the crop hit her left buttock with a loud hiss.  
"Thirty-two. For forcing me to kill my best friend."  
Confused about the two different actions Henry performed on her helpless body, Catherine tried to elude his hands.  
"Henry, please stop this madness," she demanded.  
"Catherine, stay still. Or do I have to tie you down?" From his previous actions she knew that Henry's threats were to be considered a serious warning. That’s why she let her resistance wane and once more she gave in to the inevitable.  
Before she could mentally prepare herself, another blow struck her. 

"Thirty-three. For defying me time and again."  
Without slackening his pace, Henry struck out again and hit the same spot, causing another hot wave of pain that made her cringe in despair.  
"Thirty-four, for speaking without being called upon."

"Thirty-five," he counted on and she was struck by another blow. "For not staying still when being told to do so."  
Catherine gasped and tried to breathe away the pain that seemed to spread all over her bottom. But she didn’t succeed.  
"Thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty!"  
Henry let his crop dance all over her buttocks and when he finally let go of her, a soft whimpering noise escaped her throat. 

"Breathe, Catherine," Henry instructed her in a calm voice and stroked her burning buttocks in a reassuring gesture.  
"There you go, take deep breaths, babe," he praised her when she finally started to calm down.  
Then he surprised her by gradually letting his fingers slide back between her thighs.  
"Keep breathing", Henry told her since Catherine held her breath in nervous expectation.  
Then he let his fingers glide over her labia and up to her clit.  
Just as sudden as he had struck out earlier, he now pinched her sensitive little bud.  
With a sharp cry on her lips, Catherine's lower body jerked towards his hand, while a different kind of warmth started to spread from her pubis mons to all over her body. 

Then she could hear another hissing sound, followed by another blow.  
"Forty-one," Henry counted while pinching her clitoris once again. The next blow followed, as did his next grasp between her legs.  
Hot waves rolled through Catherine's maltreated body and set it on fire until she was blazing fiercely. 

Only when her husband reached fifty blows, did he let go of her and her violently shaking body.  
"No other man will ever fuck you again," he explained angrily and grabbed her crotch. "This is all mine," he growled and increased the pressure on her vulva. Then she felt his hot breath against her neck.  
"You are mine," Henry whispered possessively and if Catherine would have had the faintest note of interest in another man, it would certainly have ceased to exist at this very moment.

But there had never been anyone else besides Richard. Only Henry, her husband, who usually cold-shouldered her in favor of his numerous lovers and mistresses.  
"Do you understand me?", Henry hissed and she nodded in devotion.  
"Then repeat it!"  
"I am yours," she said softly.

All of a sudden, she felt the leather of the crop between her legs.  
"That's right, you are mine" he confirmed and penetrated her with the handle of his crop. Catherine cried out in fright and tried to free herself, but her husband kept her in place. Regardless of her resistance, Henry kept on fucking her with his crop for several minutes before he let go of her.  
"You are wet. Aroused," he whispered and scratched the outline of her clitoris with his fingernails. Then he plucked on it and rubbed it mercilessly until Catherine couldn't stand it any longer and started to moan loudly. 

"Let’s move on to our next lesson, darling, shall we? You will ask for the last ten strokes. For each one of them. When we have reached sixty, you may ask me to come."  
Henry pressed his fingers firmly against her clit which prompted her body to twitch under his hand. "And don't you dare to come before we are finished with your punishment."  
But Catherine didn’t want to come.  
She didn't know how to take another ten strokes with the crop and she certainly wouldn't ask him to keep on punishing her.

When Catherine didn’t react, Henry manipulated her clit even more until she was one tiny movement away from an orgasm.  
How on earth could she experience pleasure in such a situation? How could she possibly be aroused by her husband beating, humiliating and manhandling her?  
"If you come before you have received all remaining strokes, the total count doubles," Henry informed her, and his fingers circled her pleasure center once more. Catherine's body trembled under his hands and it cost her enormous strength to resist the urge to press herself against her husband's hand. For if she did, she would come, of that she was sure. 

"Please," she whispered helplessly and didn’t even know what exactly she was asking for.  
"Please what?" Henry inquired and his fingertip circled her clitoris in the most dangerous way.  
"Please, another stroke!" she desperately asked with a vehemence that frightened her. If he did not let go of her immediately, she for sure would come and unwillingly prolong her ordeal.  
" I'd be delighted, sweetheart," Henry replied, and although she did not see his face, she knew that he was smiling now. 

A familiar hissing sound could be heard, then she was struck by another blow. This time, however, Henry didn’t aim at her bottom but at her thighs, which prompted her to scream in shock. But before she could recover from this blow, his hand was back at her crotch to continue with the bittersweet agony he had started several minutes ago.  
"Please, strike me again. My bottom, not my thighs," she hurried to add when Henry's dexterity had brought her to the edge of ecstasy once again. Her words made him laugh softly.  
"You are a quick learner, darling," he praised and struck her again. This time the crop hit her left ass cheek.

There were only eight strokes left, then her ordeal would be over, at least that's what she told herself. But punishing her with these eight remaining strokes seemed to take him forever. For Henry always waited for her to ask for the next stroke and he used the time between the blows to sensually torture her with his hands.  
Only when the hissing sound of the last blow had died away and the heat his punishment had inflamed her entire body, did Catherine let out a sigh of relieve.

When nothing happened afterwards, Catherine nervously turned her head in Henry's direction to see what he was up to. But she couldn't see his face, only his boots and part of his upper body. Apparently he had gone down on his knees right behind her and was now silently staring at her center. Her very wet center she was presenting him in the most degrading way.  
Shocked by his staring, Catherine tried to close her legs, but Henry prevented her from doing so.  
"Oh no," he rebuked her with amusement in his voice and she could feel his hot breath on her vulva. Shortly thereafter, his tongue moved lengthwise along her cunt before it penetrated her tunnel. 

"Mhm, you taste exquisite", he whispered, and his statement made Catherine blush in shame. "I should have savored you sooner."  
Henry's fingers joined his tongue and stimulated her clitoris with expert finesse.  
But each time she found herself on the verge of climax, Henry would stop his actions and leave her helpless with lust while trembling violently.  
"If you want to come, you have to ask for it, Catherine," he reminded her when he had driven her into a state of despair for the fifth time this day. "I won't stop until you have come. Trust me, I have all night." 

She endured his perfidious game a sixth time, but when Henry drove his teeth into her clitoris shortly thereafter, she finally screamed the redemptive words.  
"Please, may I come?"  
"It will be my pleasure," Henry replied smugly and it didn't take long, before he allowed her to cross the threshold of ecstasy. A dangerous, darker side of ecstasy that was foreign to her and yet it bestowed Catherine the greatest pleasure she had ever experienced in her entire life.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

With trembling legs and shaking violently, Catherine came down to earth. She could feel Henry's hands on her back, caressing her bare skin in an almost loving gesture.  
"I should have realized that you wouldn’t choose the path of least resistance," he rebuked her mildly. "Can you stand?"  
Catherine asked herself the same question and when she raised with Henry's help, her legs felt weak and unsteady that she had to hold on to him. Her husband patiently supported her.  
This whole situation seemed terribly surreal.  
Henry - still fully clothed - and her, standing butt naked and trembling in front of him.  
Caught between lust and shame. 

When she trusted her legs again, Catherine broke free from him and searched for the dress she had taken off at his command.  
"Go over to the bed," Henry commanded, prompting her to look up at him in puzzlement. "What are you waiting for, Catherine? Or do you think I’m already done with you?"  
He reached out and slapped her ass. Crying out loud, Catherine eluded his grasp and walked over to his bed on still shaky legs.  
It seemed that her husband did not only want to punish her, he also wanted to take possession of her. 

The sooner she accepted the inevitable, the sooner Henry would dismiss her and she could return to the seclusion of her own chambers to lick her wounds.  
"Kneel in the middle, at the edge of the mattress, facing the wall. " Catherine did as she was told. Obviously, he wanted to admire his handiwork before taking her.  
"Gorgeous. I always said that red suits you, my dear," he teased, while Catherine silently endured the continuing humiliation.  
"Now bend over. On all fours," was his next demand. 

This time she didn’t follow his order as quick as before. And before she could even think of the possible consequences for her omission, Henry appeared right next to her and forcefully pushed her upper body down.  
"You’d think that sixty strokes would be enough to make you obey."  
Catherine trembled with rage. Every fiber in her was revolting against being treated like this, against letting him have his evil way with her. She was no bitch in heat he could just take from behind. She was his queen.  
As if guessing her thoughts, Henry pushed her face even deeper into mattress, leaving her ass sticking up in the air.  
"You don’t want me to treat you like a common whore? Then don't give me a fucking reason!"

Henry was still talking when he simultaneously penetrated her with one violent thrust, pressing Catherine even harder into the mattress with his added weight. She could feel the cool leather of his trousers rubbing against her burning buttocks. Apparently he hadn't even bothered undressing before taking her. His thrusts were hard, brutal and slightly painful, without considerateness of any kind.  
But when Henry shifted his weight slightly, changing the angle of penetration and sinking even deeper into her helpless body, his member suddenly hit a spot at her inner walls that sparked an unimaginable feeling of pleasure. This feeling was more intense and more fierce than anything she had ever experienced before. It set her entire abdomen on fire.  
And each of his powerful thrusts sent new waves of lust through her body. 

A loud moan filled Henry's bedchamber and Catherine couldn’t tell for the life of her, whether she herself or Henry was responsible for this sound. Time and again her husband rammed into her, at the same time pressing her firmly into the mattress.  
When a new wave of passion rolled over Catherine's body, her hips reared up against Henry’s and another heavy orgasm hit her.  
"Dear Lord!" she screamed out loud. She could do nothing but helplessly abide her husband fucking her while a second and a third orgasm robbed her of her senses.  
Henry moaned and his breath quickened, then he started to gasp. A second later he exploded with one last violent burst deep within her body. With shaking legs, Catherine’s body slumped to the mattress, only to be buried by Henry, who collapsed on top of her.

xxx

Henry listened to Catherine's heartbeat with closed eyes. He felt intoxicated by the intensity of this experience, nearly boneless. It was several minutes later when he noticed that her breath still came in labored huffs, so he raised his head in alarm to look at her.  
"Are you okay, Catherine?"  
"I don't know," came her anything but reassuring answer, which prompted Henry to sit up with worry. The moment he raised and looked down at his panting wife, she sighed with relief and Henry finally realized that his weight had quite simply suffocated her. 

Relieved, the King of France rolled off her and looked at her from the other side of the mattress. Catherine buried her face deeply into the pillows as if she could no longer bear the humiliation she had been subjected to. Henry let his gaze slide over her bare back, slowly travelling towards her buttocks, that were adorned with angry red welts.  
Every fiber of his body urged him to reach out for the results of her punishment. After a second’s hesitation, he finally gave in to the temptation. Devoutly he let his hands roam over the hot skin of her behind. 

An action Catherine obviously hadn't expected, for she violently flinched under his touch.  
"Would you please refrain from doing that?" she hissed with iciness in her voice and picked herself up to escape to the farthest corner of his bed. Henry sighed in frustration and let himself fall back onto the mattress. 

One would think that after such a punishment, every other woman would have learned enough humility to last them for the next couple of weeks. Obviously not so with Catherine. For defiance and fighting spirit sparkled back at him from her expressive eyes.  
And although he had just experienced sexual fulfillment mere minutes ago, the thought of subjecting her once again excited him. 

There was usually not even the tiniest spark of submissiveness in Catherine's demeanor. This was probably the very reason why it was so very tempting to dominate her all of a sudden.  
Dominating girls like Kenna was a piece of cake. One he admittedly enjoyed immensely. But the conception of subjugating his indomitable wife provoked a feeling of lust he had never experienced before. A feeling he was eager to accelerate.  
Sex games of this kind were like wine. Once one had tasted the finest of all, every other wine paled in comparison. And after he had dominated the formidable Catherine de Medici, the taming of every other woman seemed bland. 

Pondering over his thoughts, Henry silently observed Catherine, who had wrapped herself up into his sheets, all the while sending deadly glares his way. Everything about her behavior told him that she would never voluntarily participate in exploring the darker side of ecstasy, even though her body had reacted so violently to it. 

Catherine may not have a submissive personality, but she was able to sexually submit to him and feel pleasure in doing so, even though she hated him and probably herself right now.  
That was in her nature.  
For Catherine was an impulsive, temperamental and very sensual woman who could indulge herself in a cause, as long as it aroused her interest.  
But she was also incredibly proud and Henry knew her well enough to understand that her pride would prevent her from voluntarily giving in to the dark side of her sexuality.  
In case he chose to continue with her on this path to sin, he had to lead her there with gentle force. Fortunately, he was in exact the right position to do so.

And while Henry was still thinking about the best possible strategy to achieve his goal, Catherine – only wrapped in his sheet - jumped out of the bed, as if she had guessed his thoughts and therefore decided to take flight.  
"Woman, where do you think you’re going?" Henry asked, mildly amused by her attempt to escape.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Isn’t it obvious? I'm leaving!" Catherine explained in her most determined tone of voice, throwing him an angry glare that would probably force anyone else to surrender.  
"No you don’t. Come back to bed."  
Instead of obeying her husband, Catherine diligently ignored his order and put on her undergarment, wordlessly running her fingers through her loose hair. She seemed completely unaffected by his words.  
"You got what you wanted. You even got more out of it than we agreed upon. Please do us both a favor and leave it alone, Henry." Her snooty tone drove Henry out of his bed. 

In the blink of an eye, he built himself up in front of Catherine and tore the robe she had just picked up from the floor out of her hands.  
"Maybe it's my fault because I didn’t make myself clear. At the present time you are in no position whatsoever to make demands or self-determined decisions. And when I tell you to return to my bed, I expect you to follow my order. Now it’s up to you, you may either obey and undress or as an alternative you may return to your cell. What’s your choice?"

Henry could see by the wavering expression on her face that Catherine was actually weighing both options against each other.  
"Why are you making your life unnecessarily difficult?" he asked her with a low sigh and grabbed her chin. "Do you really prefer another night in the tower with water and gruel over a night in your husband's bed?"  
"Alright, I’m staying, but only if I get a glass of wine and something to eat. Something good! Pheasant. With baby carrots and freshly baked bread. And a tartlet topped with raspberries for dessert," Catherine demanded, inevitably making Henry laugh out loud.  
"Alright, we can’t have you starving, can we?"

Henry agreed with a short nod and straightened his disheveled clothes, making himself presentable again. Then he walked over to the door.  
"You’d better be lying in my bed when I return, undressed and well-behaved," he said over his shoulder before leaving her alone in his chamber. 

When Henry returned with a carafe of wine, he found his wife in bed as ordered. Catherine had pulled the blanket up to her chin and stared at him in contumeliousness. He ignored her wordless protest and poured them both a goblet of wine.  
One he handed Catherine, the other he brought to his own lips.  
While they waited for the meal, she was giving him the silent treatment. Strictly speaking she did not even have to open her mouth to express how much she hated him right now. One look into her hazel eyes was all it took to determine her feeling. Sighing heavily, Henry took off his clothes and returned to bed. A normal conversation was out of question, that much he knew, so he was content with observing his wife in silence. 

Only when the dinner plate arrived, did the two of them breathe a sigh of relief - albeit for totally different reasons. Henry slipped into his robe to accept the plate. Returning to bed, he handed it over to Catherine. Then he took on the role of silent observer while Catherine wolfed down her meal. She seemed completely starved and he wondered if he had failed in feeding her properly during her captivity.  
"What is it? Why are you staring at me?", she asked him at some point in a cutting voice.  
"I am thinking. About the future."  
"Mmm," Catherine just growled and kept on eating.  
"Your future," Henry added.  
"I assume the fact that I have paid for my sins will certainly be taken into consideration," she reminded him in admonishment. Then she licked her fingers clean and looked him over.

Henry nodded, deeply lost in thought.  
"For the adultery you have committed. Yes. But please do not be fooled to believe that things will go back just to the way they were. As if nothing has happened."  
"What do you expect of me, Henry? I have been humiliated. I have kneeled before you, begging for forgiveness in front of your privy council and I have accepted my degrading punishment. You cannot change the rules whenever it suits you."  
"Do I need to remind you that you have accepted my rules? Whatever they may be?" Henry raised with a serious look on his face and stared down at Catherine.  
"But that gives you no right..." Henry interrupted her by grabbing her wrist and pulling her up so harshly that the sheet slipped off her chest, prompting the nearly empty plate to slip from her lap. 

"I have every right, Catherine, and from now on, I will no longer tolerate your obstinate behavior. You will have to learn to submit."  
"Submit? As in becoming your sex slave? You have to be out of your mind!"  
He could tell by Catherine's high-pitched tone how upset she was and he knew that it wasn’t wise to provoke her any further. Nevertheless, Henry let himself be carried away and started teasing her.  
"A very tempting idea, my darling."

Henry wasn’t surprised that Catherine didn’t laugh at his remark but started to fight back in all earnest. Her little fists were hammering against his chest while she tried to squirm free of him.

"It seems I have to teach you not only humbleness but also some respect."  
Henry growled when her left knee made contact with his crotch area.  
"How dare you speak of respect? After all you have done to me? Respect can only be earned, Henry!" His wife fought against his firm grip with unbroken spirit. But to Henry’s surprise, her defensiveness did not annoy him, it rather awakened new desire in him.  
"Catherine," he warned and pressed her back into the mattress. His sheer body mass finally contained her movements and broke her resistance.  
"I have shown you more respect than you deserve!"  
"By brutally fucking me after beating the shit out of me with your crop? What am I to you? Did my unfaithfulness nearly two decades ago hurt you so much that you have to treat me like a whipping boy or one of your whores?" 

Despite her hopeless situation, Catherine continued to fight against his grip.  
"I never treated you like a whore!" Henry's eyes glided down and over her bare breasts. All of a sudden, he had difficulties taming his wife who was once again desperately resisting his grip.  
"No? That’s what you’ve called me yourself! And did you fail to notice that you didn't kiss me once tonight? So how else do you expect me to feel?"

Her words made Henry pause. Catherine was right. He hadn’t kissed her during her ordeal tonight, nor had he kissed her when he had brutally taken her from behind. Or later on.  
Yes, he wanted to teach her where her place was, but he didn't want her to feel inferior or like a prostitute.  
She was his wife. His queen. And if it was up to him, she would remain his queen. And his wife. But only under certain conditions.  
" I'm sorry if I made you feel like a whore. You are my spouse, not a whore. And I'm willing to forgive you committing adultery. I will not put you on trial for you have fulfilled your part of our agreement, so I will keep my part of the bargain as well." 

Henry paused to think before he continued.  
"I’m going to be honest with you. The thought of subduing you once more excites me. Therefore, I have a proposal to make." He slowly released Catherine’s arms and straightened up again, watching his wife with hawk eyes.  
"What kind of proposal?" she asked suspiciously and reached for the sheet to cover herself. Staring at Henry in accusation she rubbed her wrists. Henry was calmly holding her gaze.  
"You will be the Queen of France and you will rule during my absence. You are the second most powerful person in this country - right after me." 

Henry could tell by the look on her face that she instantly realized the full extent of his proposal. He had just offered her the prospect of sovereignty. A life as Queen in its entirety without the addition "consort". An addition that had reminded her throughout her life that she descended from the House of Medici and not from a royal bloodline like her husband did.  
"And the price for this is... my submission?" she asked bitterly, whereupon Henry grabbed her chin and forced her to look him straight in the eyes.  
"Yes, Catherine. If you want to be my Queen, you have to submit to me in private. In my bedchamber."  
"And if I don't agree?" Henry had expected this question and he was well prepared for it.  
"Then you are merely Catherine de Medici, Queen Consort with residence in Bois," he explained, putting the leftovers of her meal back onto the plate to set it aside. 

"You will banish me from court should I decide to refuse your generous offer?" Catherine's voice had taken on a shrill undertone. She wasn’t able to hide her dismay but Henry wouldn’t let himself be impressed by her outburst.  
"That’s correct, Catherine. And you will only see our children when I allow it. In fact, you will need my explicit permission for everything you wish to do."  
"You can’t be serious!? I only have the choice whether you rule over my entire life, or over my body?", Catherine asked indignantly, prompting Henry to bend down until his lips nearly touched hers.  
"You got that right, darling. But is this decision really this hard? I could give you pleasures you have never even dared to dream about. Just imagine the things I can make you feel," he whispered against her lips, only to nibble at her lower lip a split second later. As expected, his wife was completely taken by surprise by Henry's attack and he used her amazement to break her timid resistance. With one hand he wrestled the blanket from Catherine’s body while his other hand slid down to her breasts leisurely. 

For a few seconds Catherine succumbed to his caresses with closed eyes but all of a sudden, she pushed him away more violently than expected and reached for the blanket to hide her nude body from his hungry eyes.  
"How can you believe that I will voluntarily consent to bodily abuse of any kind? I am not your damn whipping boy!" she hissed at him in full rage.  
"Sexual submission contains more than a few strokes with my crop, Catherine. It’s about me taking control and you accepting my dominance. You will give yourself to me and I will give you unimaginable pleasures. I will teach you new ways of lovemaking and you will learn to obey my every wish. And if you don’t give me a reason to discipline you, I will not do so. Unless, of course, you ask me to."  
His words prompted his wife to laugh. It was a bitter, humorless laugh that was followed by a contemptuous snort.  
"You are disgusting, Henry."

Henry reached for his goblet and emptied his wine. He had a presentiment of what was to come next if he did not put a stop to it immediately.  
A new discussion where Catherine's fiery temper would gain the upper hand. He saw it in her expressive eyes. Eyes that sparkled at him in a combative and fiery way. Her fire annoyed him as much as it excited him.  
To nip another confrontation in the bud, Henry rose from the mattress and started to extinguish all candles until the room was pitch black.  
"I do not wish to discuss this any further, Catherine. Just think about it. You have time until tomorrow to come to a decision. We'll see after that." Henry took off his robe and made himself comfortable right next to his wife. 

"I hate you", her words sounded muffled, as if she had buried her face into one of the pillows. Catherine's reaction amused him. With a big smile on his face, Henry pulled at the blanket his wife was holding tightly against her body. Once he had conquered part of it he snuggled deeper into the fine linen and put his arm around Catherine.  
"I know, my darling, I know. Now go to sleep."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"Rise and shine, child. Come on, get up, there's a lot to discuss!"  
Catherine awoke with a start only to look straight into the narrow-lipped face of her Aunt Francesca. The presence of the older woman in her husband's bedchamber prompted the Queen of France to rise in consternation, pressing the sheet against her chest. Despite her tired state, she was more than aware of her nakedness.   
"Francesca! What are you doing here?", she asked indignantly and searched the room with her eyes. But there was no trace of Henry.   
"He's not here," Francesca needlessly explained. "But he sends you a message."  
"And he chose you, of all people, to be his private messenger boy?" Catherine wrapped the sheet more firmly around her body and jumped out of the bed in annoyance. The pain caused by this sudden movement made her flinch. Yet she ignored her body's protest and graced her aunt with an evil glare instead.   
She couldn't even tell whose behavior annoyed her more. Her relative, who behaved like a self-complacent governess, or her husband, who did not even deem it necessary to face her this morning after the excruciating things he did to her the previous evening but instead he had sent her Francesca.   
"Yes, since he had an early appointment, Henry decided to let you sleep in. A generous gesture if you ask me."  
"But I'm not asking you," Catherine shouted angrily and snorted in disdain. 

"There's no need to talk to me in that tone of voice. Let me look at you instead." To Catherine's amazement, Francesca grabbed the sheet and tore it from her body.   
"How dare you?" she bristled at the older women’s rude action, being all too aware of her aunt's prying eyes, which glided over her naked body shamelessly.  
"Someone has to take a look, my child. Well, I could call one of Henry's maids to look after you if that’s what you prefer. Although you would risk last night events spreading like a wildfire throughout the castle. For all your servants have been barred from seeing you." The sobriety of these words made Catherine pause. Francesca was right. Even if she didn’t like it. Thus she reluctantly turned her back on her aunt. 

"Mmm, I was right. Consider yourself lucky, Caterina. Henry only wanted to teach you a lesson, he had no intention to seriously harm you."   
"Pardon me, no intention to seriously harm me?" Catherine snorted in contempt and tore the sheet out of her relative’s hands to cover her nakedness. "You call 60 strokes with a crop no serious harm?" Her voice was literally bursting with indignation at such ignorance.   
"Yes. You may experience some pain while sitting down for the next few days - which was by all means Henry's intention - but his punishment will leave no lasting marks. Viola!" Francesca called out loud for her servant. The door opened and a plump girl entered the room. She was carrying several bowls and bottles.   
"Lie down. On your belly," Francesca instructed Catherine and called forth another vocal protest.   
"Oh, don't be silly and let her help you," the older Italian rebuked her and literally stared her down with an insistent gaze. Catherine knew she was facing a losing battle. With a heavy and theatrical sigh on her lips, the Queen of France gave in. A few seconds later, she felt the maid apply a cool tincture on her sensitive backside which quickly brought her relief.   
Afterwards the maid assisted her while getting dressed.

Only when the girl had left, did Francesca de Medici speak up again.   
"Now you have two options, Caterina. You may stay the Queen of France and remain at Henry’s side. Your second option however, well...", her aunt paused for a meaningful moment and slowly approached Catherine. "... it will lock you up in a golden cage. Therefore, choose wisely. You can either stay here and await your husband's return or you can return to your own chambers. To pack." When Francesca made no effort to explain herself further, Catherine planted herself in front of her aunt and glared at her in anger.  
"That’s all Henry has to tell me?" she hissed.   
"He seemed a bit worried that you might make a wrong decision- out of defiantness or false pride."  
"That’s why he sent you to talk to me," Catherine concluded mockingly. The enormity of his offer still left her speechless and made her body tremble with rage.   
"An unnecessary precaution. You know that there is only one right choice. After all, you’re a Medici." The arrogance and presumptuousness in the older woman’s voice didn't contribute for Catherine to calm down, they rather increased the anger that was already raging deep within her very being.   
"He wants to make me his sex slave," she shouted in rage. Then she grabbed the empty carafe and forcefully throw it against the wall. The bursting sound of shattering glass and the pool of wine and crystal at her feet gave Catherine an insubstantial sense of satisfaction. Francesca, on the other hand, flicked her tongue and gave her niece a disapproving stare.   
"Don't be so melodramatic, Catherine. He just wants you to satisfy his needs. Something he is perfectly entitled to ask for anyway. You should be glad that he is dropping the charges against you and even willing to give you a chance to remain his Queen. Queen, not Queen Consort, mind you. Don't be foolish, my child. You give him what he asks for in bed and in return you get what you have always dreamed of. Absolute power." 

Francesca reached for her chin and forced Catherine to look at her. There lay an unspoken threat in her cold, intelligent eyes. Obviously, it was her Medici family who thirsted for absolute power and Catherine realized that her aunt would do anything to make her reach for it.   
"Think of your children. Think of Francis," Francesca reminded her, and Catherine had a hard time swallowing her worries. Francis, her golden child. Displaced from the line of succession by Sebastian, being out there all alone.  
She would do anything for him - anything for each of her children. She would kill, she would die, and now it seemed that she would even debase and prostitute herself for them. She had to stay at court, for in exile she could do nothing for her little ones.  
She had to stay and fight for her oldest son. Even if that meant surrendering herself to Henry and his whims. 

"Thinking about their bleak future is currently all I’m capable of doing, Francesca," Catherine shot back more sharply than intended. Before her aunt could strike a verbal recoil, the Queen of France reached for her aunt’s arm. "Very well, I accept Henry's proposal. Are you happy now?" Her frustration mixed with resignation. Shaking her head in disbelief, Catherine turned her back to her aunt and with an empty gaze she stared out of the window. She still couldn't believe what Henry was forcing her to do. 

"Yes, I am. And I am not your enemy, Caterina." Francesca's deep voice was suddenly close to her ear and a split second later the older woman placed her hand on Catherine's upper arm. "Henry will be back in the afternoon. Until his return, you are not allowed to leave his chambers or call for your personal servants or Ladies in waiting."   
Before Catherine could formally protest against Henry’s order, her relative continued speaking. "However, you are free to make use of his servants. Furthermore, you may send for anything your heart desires."  
In an unexpected gentle gesture, the older woman stroked Catherine's cheek with the tips of her fingers, then she turned to leave. Without saying another word, Francesca de Medici opened the door and left her niece alone with her thoughts. 

xxx

When Henry pushed the door to his chambers open, the King of France inevitably held his breath. Although he knew from Francesca de Medici that Catherine had chosen the first option, he did not put changing her mind at the last second past his spirited wife. His personal servant had informed him that in addition to some breakfast and lunch, Catherine had also asked for a dress. And for her children.   
Since her incarceration, he had forbidden her any contact with them, and when his valet had conveyed her wish to him, he had first been tempted to reject it rigorously. But then he had reconsidered.   
Catherine was the kind of woman who reacted to interdictions with stubborn resistance and he started to realize that he had to give in from time to time if he ever wanted to tame her. Thus after some hesitation he had approved her request and the children present at court had been brought to his chambers. At least for a few hours. He hoped that their visit had placated Catherine. 

His eyes flitted across the room in search of his wife. He found her reading in the furthest corner of his chamber, sitting on the windowsill that has been decorated with various cushions. Henry expelled the breath he had been holding with a soft hissing noise. But as soon as she noticed his presence, Catherine closed the book and drove around in alarm.  
"You’re still here. So I take it you have made your choice. I’m glad." Henry stepped up to the table where a carafe of red wine was waiting for him and poured himself a cup. All the while never letting his wife out of his sight, not even for a second. "Come here," he commanded and started sipping his wine. 

"Henry, I think we should..."   
The King interrupted her brusquely.  
"Catherine, am I right in assuming that you have decided to stay here at court? Please correct me if I'm wrong." It cost him enormous self-control to not lose his patience with her.   
"Yes, but..." He interrupted her again, this time his words were sharper than before.  
"No but! If you accept my offer, I expect blind obedience from you. And if I tell you to come here, you will do so immediately." Henry placed his goblet on the table with force, causing the wine to spill all over the smooth surface. Her brief wince did not escape his attention and elicited a grim smile on his face. 

"So what are you waiting for?" Henry asked and called himself to order. He already suspected that Catherine wouldn’t hesitate to test his limits. And hers.  
And he was fully aware of the fact that he would not be able to subdue her overnight. However, he had not expected her to be that stubborn. Not after last night. But now it was obvious that she would be facing further punishment in her near future. He almost wished she would test him here and now.   
As if guessing his thoughts, Catherine straightened her shoulders and approached him hesitantly.   
Her facial expression reflected numerous emotions. Any weaker man would have considered taking flight to escape the fighting spirit he saw sparkling in her dark eyes.   
But not him, Henry Valois II, King of France.

When Catherine came to a halt, standing merely a few inches before him and staring up at him with her chin stubbornly raised, Henry felt another grim smile appear on his lips at her giving in. Completely motionless, he held her gaze for several minutes and stared her down with iron determination until Catherine crossed her arms in front of her chest and with a frustrated sigh, she looked the other way in annoyance. Her defeat in their little stare competition was the first milestone on his long way to taming her and his victory gave him a feeling of elation that rapidly spread throughout his entire body. Spurred on by his euphoria, he grabbed Catherine's chin and turned her head back in his direction. Then he smothered her protest with a brutal kiss. 

Lack of oxygen finally forced him to release his wife. Catherine used this opportunity to put some distance between them. With burning cheeks and breathing heavily, she was standing in the middle of the room, staring at him with a mixture of annoyance and excitement written all over her beautiful face. The most delightful sight he had set eyes upon today.   
Catherine was wearing a dark patterned, tight-fitting dress of finest velvet, which accentuated her feminine curves in the most enticing way.   
"This is how it's going to be from now on?" Her tone of voice sounded disapproving, but Henry didn't object. Instead he dropped down on one of the chairs and stretched his tired legs. "You just bark your orders and I have to obey you?"  
"Yes, Catherine. We agreed on that, didn’t we?" Henry knew he was provoking her with his words, but the sooner his wife yielded to the inevitable, the sooner the real fun would begin. If necessary, she would have to learn the hard way.   
"Come back here", he told her quietly. This time his words lacked their previous sharpness and he hoped that Catherine would submit with less resistance.  
He knew how reluctant she was with taking orders and he was sure that she still had to be mentally gnawing at the events of the previous night. If he wanted Catherine to submit to him in the long run, he had to grant her some time to get used to her new role. He could only hope that her stubbornness would not force him to discipline her for two days in a row and he decided not to push her to her limits today.   
But Catherine did not need to know that. 

Henry registered with delight how his wife hesitantly put one foot in front of the other and finally stopped in front of him. Her yielding at this point pleased him and prompted him to smile at her. A smile Catherine did not return. She merely stared at him in wait.   
On impulse, Henry pulled her onto his lap, causing her to scream out loud.  
"Oh, I nearly forgot. How is your rear doing?" he inquired, not without a hint of pride in his voice, once he realized that it was not surprise but the aftermath of his punishment that prompted her to scream.   
"How do you think I’m doing after the things you did to me?" Defiance was clearly visible on Catherine's mien and in a silent warning Henry strengthened his grip on her body.  
"My dear wife, it’s up to you. If you do not give me a reason, I will not punish you."   
He raised his hand and caressed Catherine's upper lip, then he gently stroked her cheek. "I want to see it," Henry whispered into her ear.   
"Pardon me, what?" she asked in disgust. And although he did not believe that it was possible for Catherine's posture to become any more rigid, nevertheless he felt his wife tense up.  
"You have heard me, doll." 

With his middlefinger and forefinger Henry grasped Catherine’s chin and turned her head in his direction to kiss her again. This time he took his sweet time and nibbled at her lower lip playfully. With a sense of complacency, he noticed a shiver running through her frame. Henry kissed her again until her trembling body started to relax on his lap. Her physical reaction to his kisses amazed him time and again. For no matter how unapproachable she seemed or how brusquely she rejected his advances from time to time - as soon as he kissed her, his wife melted into his arms and with her, her resistance. A fact he would make use of in the days and weeks to come. Maybe Catherine hated him and the things he would order her to do, but her body would betray her sooner or later, of that he was sure. 

"Get up," he whispered hoarsely against her lips and it took all his self-control to not just jump her bones. At the same time, his hands grasped her waist to keep her at a slight distance from his lower regions. For a second or two he saw irritation flaring up in Catherine's slightly dilated eyes but then she slowly straightened up with his help. Henry was sure that it was arousal that he saw written all over her beautiful face. "Now turn around and lift your skirts", he instructed her quietly in a gentle tone with no hint of a threat in his voice. Yet he held his breath for a moment, waiting for her reaction. For Catherine was unpredictable. 

A slight blush started spreading over her cheeks. For the blink of an eye, she was just standing there, motionlessly staring at him. Then she swallowed hard and slowly turned around. Her chalky white hands were buried in the soft fabric of her dress.   
On closer consideration he understood her hesitation. For only at the beginning of their marriage had he been able to set his eyes on her naked body. She had been glorious and free from shyness and shame. But once their problems had defeated them, these impartialities between them had disappeared. Intimacy had given way to resentment and in the end their marital activities had been reduced to a cold, tension-filled and impersonal act of procreation. From that point on, Catherine had never again voluntarily revealed her naked body to him. Especially not when, after ten desperate years, she had finally received his long-awaited heir.

There had been moments of passion between them, Henry couldn't deny that, but during these encounters he had to avow that Catherine had always been wearing parts of her clothes or a nightdress. The few times they had torn off each other's clothes had been in total darkness and he had not been able to see her body, he had only felt it.   
This would change now. Catherine was going to learn to present herself naked. He was only afraid that the sight of her unclothed body might throw his decision overboard to grant her some time to heal.   
Thus today, Henry would be content to merely admire her maltreated behind.   
Tomorrow however, he would teach his wife her first lesson in accepting her nudity. 

"I'm waiting," he reminded her calmly when Catherine made no attempt to lift the skirts she was holding with clenched fists. Finally, he could watch her hands move upwards. He literally could feel the tension emanating from her pores and he was more than aware of the inner struggle she was facing. With nerve-racking slowness, Catherine raised the hem of her dress, exposing first white knee-high stocking and finally the velvety skin of her shapely thighs. But just before exposing the part of her anatomy he wanted to see most, her trembling fingers paused for a second time.   
"Catherine," Henry admonished her softly when he could no longer endure her sweet torture. A slight jerk went through her body before she finally pulled her skirts all the way up and presented Henry with an unhindered view of her naked backside. Her round butt cheeks were still reddened or of slight bluish discoloration from his punishment. A sight that drove Henry out of his armchair to admire his handiwork up close. The touch of his callous hands made Catherine flinch.   
"Hold still," he whispered into her ear and ran his fingers reverently over her soft skin. 

Several minutes passed while Henry was gently caressing Catherine's behind. When he felt some of the tension leave her body, he let his hand glide between her thighs.   
Her ensuing wince confirmed his theory. Catherine was still sore from last night's activities. So Henry playfully slapped her bottom and let go of her skirt that slid down her legs with a soft rustling noise, covering her private parts again.   
His slap had coaxed a suppressed yelp out of his wife’s throat, but he suspected her cry was rather due to her shock than to physical pain.   
"Very well, darling." Henry stepped back at the table and poured himself another cup of wine. " I will be giving an audience tomorrow morning, starting at ten o'clock. You are welcome to join me, Catherine. In the late afternoon, a small banquet will be held for some nobles from Champagne where we will appease them and make amends for their losses caused by the current unrest and last month’s great storm. I'm sure they will be delighted to see their Queen at her husband's side. After our banquet, I will take a digestif with these Lords. And when I return to my chambers, I expect you to await me. Stark naked. Now leave, you are dismissed."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"Your Majesty, the Queen will be ready shortly. I will inform her that..."   
"Save your breath. I will inform my wife in person." Without paying any more attention to the guards outside of Catherine's chambers, Henry pushed past them and entered the room. He found his wife sitting at her dressing table - facing the mirror – with a coal-stick in her right hand. Staggered by her unexpected visitor, she lowered the stick and stared at him through the glass of the mirror.   
"Henry, what are you doing here?" Besides astonishment, he saw a flash of suspicion flicking up in Catherine's dark, expressive eyes. He was not surprised by her reaction, yet it made him feel strangely discontented. But he tried hard to shake off his disappointment at her skepticism. After all, he was partly to blame for sowing the seeds of suspicion between them.   
"I’m here to pick you up for our audience." The smile on his face felt stiff and forced.  
The only reaction his words excited from his wife were a meaningful "Aha" and a raised eyebrow. Then her gaze returned to the mirror to study her reflection. She lifted the charcoal stick again to draw a perfectly shaped eye line.   
"Why?" 

Her question elicited a wry grin on Henry’s face. It was just like Catherine to get right to the heart of the matter and not to dwell on pointless banter.   
"Because you are my Queen." He couldn't possibly come up with a better answer. After all, he was speaking the truth and Henry was determined to keep his part of the bargain. From now on he would treat her with all due respect in front of others. In a matter of speaking, his plan to present themselves as a unit at the audience didn’t feel like the worst idea he’d ever had.   
For if he wanted to sexually bind Catherine to him in the long run, he better should not ignore their personal bond. And this included being an attentive and respectful husband in public. Something he had admittedly neglected in the past. 

But now he had an agreement with Catherine and he had decided to maintain their marriage. And with this agreement came certain obligations.   
For one thing, he had to support her after she went down on her knees before him and his privy council in order to unambiguously demonstrate that he had not only forgiven his Queen, but that he would strengthen her position from now on. On the other hand, he knew of what Catherine was capable of with her brilliant mind, her keen perception and her astuteness and it was time to let these qualities work for and not against him for a change. 

"I'm glad you remember that from time to time." The smug tone of her voice made Henry reduce the distance between them. Then he bent down and kissed her.   
"Trust me, I do. You look lovely today, by the way", he whispered against her lips and let his attention wander over her figure in admiration. Catherine was wearing an emerald-green dress with rich golden embroidery on her neckline and her sleeves. He could not remember ever seeing her in this dress before and Henry was secretly delighted at how well it harmonized with the golden color of his own jacket.   
"Only today?" Her ironic question formed a tender smile on Henry's lips while Catherine eluded his embrace and moved on to draw her second eyelid line.   
Henry sat down on the edge of her dressing table and regarded his wife with a knowing grin.   
"You look always lovely, but especially today." He knew that he wasn’t obligated to respond to her argumentative remark, but the temptation was too big and from his experience with women he knew that showering them with compliments would lead him to his goal rather sooner than later.   
"If you say so." Catherine's skeptical look, however, proved that his own wife was less easily to win over than any other women he had ever met. 

With a wave of her hand she beckoned one of the maids over who hurried to her with several jewelry cases that were padded with dark blue velvet. All caskets were opened for Catherine to choose from and Henry bent over his wife’s shoulder to closely inspect all pieces of jewelry. By doing so, her flowery, slightly exotic perfume filled his nose. He took a deep breath and absorbed her familiar and recently very beguiling scent.   
Once Catherine had made her choice, she reached for one of the pieces, but Henry beat her to it by taking out a golden necklace that was heavily decorated with jade stones instead. He had given it to Catherine on their fifth wedding anniversary. He couldn’t even remember the last time seeing it on her.   
"I still remember the day I gave you this necklace. You have loved it. And it harmonizes quite well with the color of your dress. May I?" What sounded like a question was in fact a request for he had already chosen for her.   
He could tell by Catherine's surprised expression that she had neither expected his choice nor his interference. He could literally see busy thoughts taking place behind her forehead and for a second he wondered if she would dare to refuse him. But to his delight his wife nodded in agreement. 

Therefore, Henry pushed aside the curls that had escaped her elaborate hairstyle and stared with fascination at the pale curve of her nape. Henry took his time with putting the heavy necklet around his wife’s neck. His fingers kept stroking Catherine's delicate skin and lingered at the nape of her neck longer than necessary. After finally closing the hook, his fingertips gently retraced the contours of her collarbone. Unlike with Diane and Kenna, Catherine's collarbone was less prominent. Neither did her ribs or hip bones stick out. Where the other two women could be described as slim, Catherine's body had curves. Feminine curves at all the right places, that made her look well-proportioned despite her small height. And although Henry's main focus on a woman’s body were usually her breasts, he also appreciated his wife’s magnificent derrière. Catherine was a woman through and through, and at times like these he wondered why he had paid so little attention to her physical attributes in the recent past. This was going to change. 

"Henry, we'll be late." Catherine's words tore Henry from his digressive thoughts. He nodded and reached out to his wife to assist her getting up. She acknowledged his admiring gaze that glided over her body with a contemptuous snort. Nevertheless, Catherine took the hand he offered her and let him lead her into the great hall. 

Throughout the entire afternoon, Henry practiced restraint and let his wife lead the audience. Both his privy council and the nobles couldn’t hide their amazement at this development. But none of those present dared to openly question his motives. Only two men, who were not satisfied with Catherine's decision about their cases, dared to undermine her authority and asked Henry for a second opinion.   
"You have heard my wife," he growled at a chunky man of lower landed gentry.   
He himself would have most likely decided in the interests of the man rather than those of his former neighbor's widow, but he kept this to himself to back Catherine up. He had left all decisions up to her and now he had to learn to trust her judgment.   
"And now I don't want to hear another word about it. Let's move on with this."

After another endless hour, they concluded the official part of their audience. With Catherine on his arm, Henry walked down the corridor, leading her to the dining hall.   
"I thought this would never end," he whispered into her ear when they entered the room.   
"Obviously, you've been letting things slide these past days." Catherine's sharp-tongued reply made him pause.  
"Yes, my recalcitrant wife demands my full attention as of lately," Henry countered no less glibly and tightened the grip on her arm. "I hope you will not keep on testing me."  
The arrival of their guests from the Champagne prevented Catherine from contradicting once again.

The couple spent the next two hours with a small delegation of men and women who had suffered severe personal and financial losses during the last storm and civil unrest in their region. Due to their growing discontent, Henry was compelled to make several promises and concessions to these people.   
Catherine on the other hand was life and soul of every conversation and enchanted even the grumpiest of Lords with her radiant charms and wit. Henry couldn't help but shower her with admiring glances time and again while they were having dessert.   
How could he forget what an excellent diplomat his Medici wife was?   
If only she would take the path of diplomacy more often during their interpersonal quarrels. 

But the nearer the end of their festive banquet came into sight, the more tense Catherine's posture became. None of those present noticed the Queen's growing nervousness, but Henry, who knew his wife like no one else, saw the signs. The clasp around her wine goblet that was too tight and therefore made her knuckles appear white, the smile on her face, that seemed more and more forced as the evening progressed, and the leftovers on her dessert plate. Under normal circumstances, his wife would never spurn these delicacies, but apparently her nervousness was putting knots in her stomach and has ruined her appetite.   
The realization that their upcoming activities in his private chambers were putting his wife on edge caused a self-satisfied smile to spread all over Henry’s face. For an inexplicable reason, he was pleased to see his otherwise so steadfast and confident wife behaving in such a nervous manner.   
"I've changed my mind, doll," he whispered into her ear while wiping his mouth with a napkin. His words literally made Catherine jump. With a suspicious look in her dark, beautiful eyes, she glared at him and Henry could have sworn that she was trying to kill him with her stare for calling her doll in public. "I want you to wear something after all while waiting for my return." After a short, meaningful pause, he continued. "Your necklace. Nothing else."   
To give his words more meaning, he briefly ran his fingers over the jewelry, deliberately touching the warm skin beneath. 

Henry didn’t dare to give Catherine an opportunity to verbally react to what he had just said, therefore he invited all gentlemen to take a digistif with him in the adjoining room a second later, bidding all ladies present goodbye at the same time. He spontaneously sent his own wife off with a kiss on her cheek. The astonished expression on her face prompted him to caress her upper arm with a soft pat.   
"I’ll see you in about an hour, Catherine."

True to his words, an hour later Henry hurried through the corridors of the castle that were leading to the King's private chambers. Joyful anticipation had spread throughout his entire body and his excitement felt like butterflies in his stomach. He would never had dreamed that the idea of having sex with his wife would put him in such a euphoric state. But it wasn't just the idea of sex that excited him. It were rather the sensual fantasies he planned to play out with Catherine. The sheer number of possibilities made his pulse race with excitement.   
But when he pushed open the door to his chambers, he did not see Catherine waiting for him in plain sight as expected. It took him a second to spot her in his bed, hidden beneath his blanket.   
"When I told you to await me buck naked, I did not mean by lying in my bed, buried up to the chin." Henry tried hard not to let his amusement show. He should have known better, and her little rebellion immediately aroused him. Catherine's behavior cried for submission.   
"Then you should have said so," answered his rebellious wife and Henry felt a wolfish grin spreading all over his face. 

"You're right, my order lacked some precision. My fault. All right, then. Next time I tell you to wait for me in the nude, you will be kneeling in the middle of the room with your head lowered." Henry had not intended to make such a rule, but the idea of seeing a nude Catherine submissively kneeling in front of him was too tempting.   
As expected, his wife reacted with indignation to his words, but Henry didn’t care. He walked across the room, slipping out of his heavy jacket. He carelessly dropped it on one of the chairs before slowly walking towards the bed.   
"You can't possibly be serious. What if someone walks in, seeing me like that?"   
"Do you think I would let any other man see my wife naked? After everything that has happened?"  
Like hell he would! After all, he was the King of France, and no one would enter his chambers while Catherine waited for him in the nude. At least no one who cared enough to live.

"Now come over here. I want to look at you." As expected, she did not immediately obey to his command. Just when Henry wondered how to punish her refusal, Catherine started peeling her way out of the bedspread and rose. With her head held high and her chin stubbornly raised, she moved towards him and bravely withstood his piercing gaze. For a few seconds, Henry found himself staring deeply into her eyes but then he lowered his gaze and let his eyes wander over her nude body.  
Starting at her face and moving over to her neck, where he admired the golden-green necklace he had given her a long time ago. Then down to her small yet firm breasts, whose pink nipples started raising under his intense stare. Moving on to her narrow waist and to the feminine curve of her belly. His gaze wandered lower, observing her ample hips, before sliding down between her legs. Taking her all in, Henry let his eyes rest there for a minute or two.   
His inspection made Catherine move her weight from one leg to the other. He could literally feel her level of discomfort grow. Though he didn’t mind her fidgeting, he moved his attention down to her thighs. Despite her small height, Catherine had well-proportioned legs. And tiny feet with even tinier toes. 

During his physical examination, Henry suddenly became very aware of how incredibly beautiful his wife was. Even after all these years. A fact he seemed to have forgotten due to their constant quarreling. He should have ordered his nude wife way sooner into his chambers, maybe the two of them would have been spared some grief.   
When he raised his eyes again, Catherine had turned her head and was staring out of the window as if she couldn’t even bear looking at him.   
"Are you still wearing your hair up to annoy me or because you wanted to give me the opportunity to loosen it myself," he asked with a smile and grasped her chin to turn her head. Then Henry reached for her neck, pulled her closer and kissed her. Although Catherine initially feigned apathy, yet it didn’t take long before they shared an intense, intimate kiss. Henry buried his hands in her pinned-up hair and searched for the clips that held it together.   
"Until now, you've never cared whether I am wearing my hair up or down." Catherine's reply was nothing more than a hoarse whisper against his open lips. The kind of whisper that sent showers of excitement down his spine.

Catherine couldn't have been more wrong with her statement. For he loved seeing her with her hair down. And he loved running his fingers through her golden curls. Her loose hair symbolized the earlier years of their marriage and the untamed love of the carefree newly-weds they had been. During those days, Catherine had always worn her hair down. Only when the pressure to sire an heir had become unbearable and the quarrels between them were getting out of control resulting in him bringing Diane back to court, did she begin to wear her hair up. Her new hairdo came along with raising impregnable walls around her heart. He had hated it. 

Nowadays Henry had come to terms with this and he could even admit that most of her elaborate hairstyles suited her very well. But his wife looked the most beautiful with her hair down.   
"Now I prefer it down," he said matter-of-factly and tried to swallow the lump in his throat along with his bitter-sweet memories.   
At last his fingers found the last clips that held together Catherine's hair and he slowly pulled them out, freeing the soft curls that fell down her bare shoulders like a golden waterfall. Henry let go of her and started circuiting his wife whose gaze followed him in suspicion.  
"That's better now. Very nice."   
Henry reached for Catherine's chin, pulling her closer to steal another kiss with his other hand buried in her curls. 

Minutes later, Henry released his wife. Whistling cheerfully, he walked over to one of his big trunks and started rummaging through it. He could feel Catherine's gaze on his back, trying to burn him with sheer willpower. When he finally found what he was looking for, Henry turned and held several white scarves up, so his wife could see them. They were all made of finest silk.   
"What happens now?" Though Catherine tried hard to hide her nervousness, he could still detect a slight tremor in her voice.   
"Now, my darling, you and I are going to play." Henry straightened his posture and went over to his bed. "Come here, Catherine."  
Once again, she only obeyed his command after a moment's hesitation. Admonishing himself to patience, Henry’s fingers clasped the silken scarves, silently feeling up their texture. All the while never taking his eyes off his wife, who slowly approached him. When she finally came to a halt before him, Henry threw all but one of the scarves onto the bed and grabbed Catherine's shoulders to turn her around. Once her back was turned to him, he lifted the silky cloth to her head.   
"I will blindfold you. Stand still," he warned her, while he tied the ends of the scarf together behind her head. While doing so, his gaze once and again wandered to her buttocks, that were still showing the angry marks of her previous punishment.

"Henry?" Catherine’s voice sounded alarmed. She tried to raise her arms, but Henry beat her to it and grabbed her wrists before she could push the blindfold away.   
"I will tie you to my bed and you will have to learn to trust me." His announcement drew an indignant gasp out of Catherine’s mouth.  
"Trust you?" she asked in indignation and started to fight back in earnest now. Annoyed by her resistance, Henry threw himself onto his wife and pushed her onto the mattress. Before she had a chance to reactor or break his hold on her, Henry tore her arms up and held her slender wrists captive with one of his fists. With the other hand he searched for one of the silk scarves.   
"The more you resist, the tighter your ties will be, Catherine," he warned her and pinned her under his body to get her under control. Then he wrapped the white scarf first around the bedpost and then around Catherine's left wrist. By doing so he had to let go of her right hand, which prompted her to try to push him away with it. With a growl from deep within his throat, Henry pulled the scarf tighter than necessary and reached for another one. He attached it to the other end of the bed while Catherine kept on struggling beneath him.   
"I do not like to repeat myself, Catherine. Stay still! I will tie you to this bed - whether you like it or not. You can either cooperate and I will give you unimaginable pleasures, or you keep on resisting me and I will put you over my knee and spank you like I did the other day. It's up to you, Doll."

Her resistance weakened under the threat of further punishment.   
"You don’t have to tie me up, I will submit. I will..." Henry placed his index finger on Catherine's lips to stop her bargaining.   
"Shh, we play by my rules, not by yours. I appreciate your willingness to submit, but I will still tie you up. But I assure you, you won’t be harmed. Trust me, restricting your ability to move will heighten your senses and increase your pleasure. And seeing you helpless and at my mercy will increase mine."   
Henry thought he detected a first sign of vulnerability in her tense posture and by the way she was trying to force her body to relax. A reaction that surprised him and that softened him up at the same time. Now that Catherine had completely given up her resistance, he let go of her free hand and stroked her cheek in a tender gesture instead.   
"You will enjoy it," he assured her, and knowing about the power of his kisses, Henry bent down and kissed her. He took his sweet time, nibbling playfully on her lower lip, and when his tongue brushed over the rim of her teeth, Catherine willingly opened her mouth. Absorbed in their kiss, he felt her rigid body relax under him. 

When a suppressed groan escaped her throat, Henry let his hands wander up her right arm. All the way down to her wrist, which he now grasped more gently than before. Then he pushed her arm over her head. This time, Catherine did not resist his grip. She just lay there, letting him tie her to his bedpost.   
Once he was satisfied with his handiwork, Henry sat up and stared at his helpless wife in satisfaction and growing desire. Her chest rose and fell heavily, and her breath came in huffs. He knew her condition well, had seen it in countless women before. Fear mixed with desire. 

Henry's hands slid down from her upper body towards her thighs. He deliberately avoided touching her breasts or her pubic area. There was plenty of time for that later.   
He paused at her right ankle, tracing the sole of her foot with his fingernails before reaching for another silky cloth and wrapping it around her ankle. Then he shoved her legs apart and tied the scarf around the lower bedpost. He did the same with her left leg, leaving Catherine lying naked in front of him - with her arms and legs spread wide apart.   
Henry nodded in satisfaction and took a kneeling position between her thighs to admire his work. 

He stayed like that for a few minutes, wordlessly staring at his wife, for he just couldn't get enough of this glorious sight.   
"Henry?" Although Catherine's voice sounded firm, she couldn't hide her nervousness.   
"I'm here, doll." Calming her down, he stroked her inner thigh briefly before rising and going over to the table. "I'm just going to get something, then I'll be right back with you."   
He returned to bed with a goblet of wine, his crop and the feather of a bird of prey.   
Now he was ready to play.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy (a little bit too early) Birthday, Issi! This chapter is for you!

Chapter 11

A tremor passed through Catherine's entire body. One that literally ran from head to toes. Every fiber, every nerve ending of her body was taut and in danger of bursting into flames at the slightest touch. Henry had been right, even though she wasn’t able to see him, she felt his overpowering presence all the more. She could feel his burning gaze on her body, while his masculine scent entered her nostrils, clouding her senses. Her eyes might be blindfolded and her arms and legs might be bound to the bedposts. Her other senses, however, were sharpened like never before in her life.   
She didn't know what Henry was up to, apparently he had collected some things and had placed them on the mattress beside her. But she had no clue about what they were. The only thing she could identify was a goblet of wine he had placed on his bedside table, for it’s familiar, slightly spicy and sour note lay in the air.   
Catherine could hear the soft rustling noise of clothes being taken off. Apparently, her husband was getting naked. 

Even though she knew how pointless it was trying to free herself, Catherine flexed her muscles to test the restraints nevertheless. Henry had tied the silky scarfs tightly around her ankles and wrists with only minimal play, but unlike coarse rope, these scarfs did not irritate her skin. At least not much. A consolation, if only a small one.   
Catherine hated feeling helpless. Helpless and exposed. What a picture she had to present? Tied to Henry's bed - naked – with every inch of her skin revealed, even her most private parts since her arms and legs were spread in the most vulgar way - robbed of her eyesight and unable to elude this situation. Every fiber of her being cried out to her to stop this madness. 

Suddenly she felt the air in the room change. It became denser, even heavier. Impregnated by the sweet smell of candle wax. Blatantly, Henry had lighting several candles made of finest beeswax whose scent now filled the air.   
Then she felt the mattress sink in next to her and a split second later his hands moved along her costal arch, prompting her to involuntarily flinch at his touch. But Henry seemed unimpressed by her reaction, for he quietly let his fingertips glide over the underside of her breasts, then up to her armpits. His feathery touches teased Catherine’s sensitive skin while submitting her to his sweet torture. An ordeal she couldn't escape from - no matter how hard she tried to fight against her bonds.   
"Don't fight it, let it happen," Henry's words were nothing more but a hoarse whisper against her throat and his hot breath gently tickled her skin, causing a pleasant shiver to slowly run down her body.

By the love of God, at that moment Catherine felt a desire to surrender, to willingly give in to the sinful temptation her husband unfolded to her. Yet she knew how wrong and morally reprehensible this desire was. Throughout her life she had worked hard to achieve more than just being someone's wife – someone’s property. Even if this someone was a king. She had a will of her own, she had her own thoughts, she even had her own fortune. It was tremendously hard to compete in a world dominated by men. Because she, Catherine de Medici, expected more out of life. So much more.   
But now she was in danger of coming undone in a wild torrent consisting of lust, submission and sin. Betrayed by her own body, that started to writhe beneath her husband’s hands and his soft caresses. Could Henry possibly even read the conflict that was surely written all over her face while her body and mind were fighting for dominance?

She loathed the feeling of not being master of her own actions as much as she hated bending to Henry's will. And yet Henry was able of literally bringing her to her knees. Every time her husband subdued and touched her, a fire of lust flared up inside the core of her very being. How did he do that? 

His fingers teased and stroked her body, exploring every inch of her skin while crudely ignoring the parts where she longed the most for his touch. When Henry finally leaned down to kiss her, she instantly opened her mouth and completely indulged in his kiss. A kiss that was more intense and intimate than any kiss they had ever shared before. After what seemed like half an eternity, Henry released her mouth and Catherine realized that her whole body was now trembling with desire.  
A few seconds later, something soft and indefinable grazed her left breast. It circled her nipple, stimulating and tickling her sensitive skin before it moved on to her other breast.   
And while Catherine was still wondering if this unknown object was a feather, Henry's lips closed around her newly orphaned nipple and started sucking on it in all eagerness until a guttural moan escaped her throat. Caught between desire and helplessness, she reared up beneath his lips while struggling against her restraints. 

Suddenly his teeth pierced the delicate flesh of her nipple and Catherine let out a startled cry. In an instant, a wave of heat raged through her maltreated breast that unleashed right between her legs. Before she could recover or question her body's response, Henry switched sides. He started nibbling on her other nipple while the object - a feather, she was now certain of - tickled her left breast, tenderly mending the marks his teeth might have left. In addition to his lips, she could now feel his fingers clasping her breast. Then they moved on to her nipple, that had turned into a firm little bud, as soon as his mouth released it. With increasing pressure, Henry rubbed his fingers against this sensitive bud. Then he squeezed it between his fingers, firmly pulling on it. The moaning sound that escaped Catherine's throat sounded almost inhuman in her own ears.   
"You like that, don't you?!" This wasn’t a question but rather a statement, and yet Catherine shook her head in denial, causing Henry to increase the pressure of his fingers.  
"No," she struggled against her bonds, but the heat between her legs that spread at wind speed, gave lie to her words. 

"No?" Henry sounded amused, as if he found pleasure in her desperate attempt to hide her excitement from him. "Well, we'll see." Something in his voice alarmed her. But before Catherine could ask herself what exactly her husband was going to do, she felt his unerringly hands wandering down her body and sliding right between her widely spread legs.  
"Oh, now I see how much you like it... you are wet." Skillful fingers palpated and explored her most intimate body parts.   
After a few minutes, where Henry had not only made use of his hands but also of the feather and his tongue, she could no longer bear his touches. Catherine started to tremble and she couldn’t stop her body from rearing up against her husband while wildly twitching with desire. His mouth, that was sucking on her clit in the most sinful way, his fingers, that were penetrated her body in a rapid pace and the feather, that was gently touching the inside of her thighs, robbed Catherine of her ability to think and sent her over into an ecstatic frenzy of lust. She felt her legs start to tremble and could hear her own blood rushing through her veins. 

Just when Catherine thought she could no longer endure his sinful torture, not even for one more second, did Henry suddenly let go of her.   
"What's wrong, why are you stopping?" she gasped out of breath. Frustration slowly started spreading throughout her body and prompted her to lift her arm in order to reach out for Henry. Her restraints, however, kept her from doing so, reminding her of the fact that she was helplessly bound and at the mercy of her husband. "Henry?"  
"Well, look who’s being impatient!? We have all night, doll." His voice echoed close to her ear and a split second later, Henry's lips met hers again.   
His words alarmed her. When was the last time they had actually spent time with each other? Let alone in bed. And what exactly had he planned for her?  
As if her husband could read her confused thoughts, he intensified their kiss and robbed Catherine of any ability to think. She tasted herself on his lips, savored what Henry himself had savored mere seconds ago. And although she should be horrified by this very idea, the only sensation that prevailed at the time was excitement. 

xxx

Henry stared down at Catherine with fascination, taking in the breathless raising and lowering of her chest, the slight tremor rolling through her body and the transfigured expression on her face that was still visible despite the fact that she was wearing a blindfold. A mixture caught between frustration and ecstasy. He had never seen her like that before. Not even in his wildest dreams had he imagined one day introducing his wife to the dark arts of lovemaking. Now he realized what a great omission of his part this had been.   
For Catherine was made for this dark kind of love. Even though she still resisted him, her body excessively reacted to his dominance. Usually, he felt annoyed by her stubbornness and he hated any kind of refusal in general, her little rebellions in bed however, made his blood boil and his dick swell with lust. Every time she rebelled against his orders, her resistance sparked the desire to dominate her and to fuck the stubbornness right out of her body. 

Henry reached for the feather and once again he ran it over the underside of her breasts. The shudder that soon caught his wife’s body was answered by a smug grin on his face.   
He waited and studied Catherine trying to wriggle herself out of her bounds in vain.  
It had been ages since he had last been able to scrutinise his wife so intensely. Without clothes and without hiding behind the meter-high protective walls she had built between them. Tiny freckles covered not only her face, but also her neck, her cleavage and the base of her breasts. Oh how he loved her breasts. They were small yet firm, and they fitted into his hands in the most perfect way. It excited him to see her tied up and helplessly exposed to his whims.   
The most powerful woman of France - a proud Medici and his wife. 

But Henry knew that he might have tied her to his bed, but he had not yet broken her.   
And in fact, it wasn’t his intention to break her. Just bend her.

Catherine seemed to feel his intense gaze resting on her body and once again she fought against her bonds. A sight that made all remaining blood rush to his lower body parts. Once more he grasped one of her breasts, testing it’s weight and it’s texture before he clasped her erect nipple with his fingertips and began to twirl it with light pressure. As expected, Catherine reacted violently to this stimulation. But Henry was only satisfied when a hoarse moan left her throat. Music to his ears.   
"You like that, don’t you?" He said after releasing her nipple. “A good pain.”   
When there was no answer to his question, he turned the feather around and circled her breast with the sharpened quill, leaving a red mark on her alabaster skin.   
"Henry!?", Catherine sounded highly alarmed, but Henry wordlessly continued with the feather’s journey all over her breast. His gaze followed the angry marks in awe. But when he stung the tip of the feather into her nipple, his wife violently reared up beneath him, almost causing him to lose his balance over her.   
"Henry?! What is this? Is this a knife?!" Catherine's voice cracked in fear.  
Henry looked up and stopped instantly. For it was not her physical reaction that disturbed him beyond measure, but the sound of her voice. And the expression on her face. He could tell just by looking at her that she was close to a panic attack and her breathing was way too shallow and way too fast.

Henry lowered the feather and caressed her cheek instead in a soothing gesture.   
"No, Catherine. I have promised you that no harm will come to you, remember?" he asked her and stroked her skin in lazy circles. But his words did not have the desired effect.   
"What was it?", she demanded once again and began to violently fight against her bounds. "What was it?!"

"A feather, Catherine," Henry assured her, and with a flash of inspiration he pushed the feather into one of her bound hands. "See, you can touch it. The quill of a feather. Take a long and deep breath. Yes, that’s it. Breath in through your nose and out with your mouth. Very good, you’re okay." Henry watched Catherine's fingers testing the feather’s texture while her breathing slowly returned to normal.   
"Nothing is going to happen to you. You can trust me," he said, not for the first time. The snort she emitted sounded like a scornful laughter she could barely suppress.   
Where the hell did he get the idea from that his suspicious wife would trust him one day?   
She didn’t trust him politically, nor as a husband, and now it was quite obvious that she didn’t trust him with her life either. A realization that made it difficult for Henry to swallow. Nevertheless, he forced himself not to take this knowledge personally.   
After all, Rome wasn’t built in one day. It took time to rebuild a destroyed relationship. And their marriage was still on shaky grounds, basically a work in progress. 

"I want to stop." Catherine's words came as no surprise to him, and for a split second Henry wondered if it wouldn't be better to actually quit for today. But then he called himself to order and shook his head.   
"No, doll. But I will make you a deal. From now on, I will tell you exactly what I am going to do next, alright?" Even though she didn't trust him right now, he knew that this was the first step to regain her trust. And allowing her to walk away from this situation was the worst possible solution. When Henry received no answer, he leaned down to kiss her. A kiss that was less demanding, but very tender and intimate therefore.   
"Alright?" he asked again once he finally broke loose from their kiss.   
"Alright." Her answer was nothing more than a soundless whisper, but that was enough for Henry.  
"You will not be harmed. You’ll rather experience unimagined pleasures, Catherine. I promise you."

Henry let his hands slowly wander over her bare body. He took his time caressing the soft skin beneath his fingertips and he was only satisfied when he drew a suppressed sound of entrancement out of his wife’s mouth. It amazed him time and again to witness Catherine spreading sensuousness once she was captivated in carnal stupor. He loved to watch her body writhe. When he was sure that Catherine had caught fire, he once again reached for the feather.   
"Remember, it's only a feather," he reminded her and gave her a heads-up to process this information before he began to draw lines on her breasts with the pointed quill.   
"Does it hurt?", he asked her quietly after a few minutes while looking at the angry marks on her skin with fascination. A delicate net of red lines that converged at her nipples. This sight excited him beyond measure. Catherine only managed a short, affirmative nod and Henry smiled knowingly.   
"A good pain, though. Am I right, doll?" To encourage her to answer truthfully, he slipped his fingers between her thighs and rubbed her clitoris. "Answer me!"  
"No... yes." Her nascent resistance followed by her giving-in all the same, prompted Henry to increase the pressure on the most intimate part of her body until his wife began to twitch, helplessly straining at her bounds. When he sensed that she was on the verge of climax, he bent his head and bite into one of her nipples. Hard.  
Catherine exploded beneath him. Her whole body trembled and shook violently while she was carried away by a fierce intoxication of lust. Her orgasm was wild and untamed despite her restraints.   
Her sight was a revelation for Henry.

"How beautiful you are," Henry whispered as he let his fingers slide over her body, a body that was still twitching in its orgasmic afterglow. And even as he spoke, Henry realized that this was not an empty platitude but the naked truth. Catherine was of a natural and very unique beauty. Even without her sumptuous robes and expensive jewels. But here and now, naked and without her otherwise omnipresent self-control, she was the most beautiful creature on earth. 

Enchanted by her sight, Henry let his right hand glide towards his crotch. His member was already fully erect and he could feel it’s pulsating heat beneath his fingers. With a suppressed groan he stroked over the length of his penis several times, while his eyes remained on his beautiful wife.   
Only when he couldn’t stand the temptation any longer, did Henry let go of his member and grabbed one of the pillows to place it between her legs.   
"Lift your hips," he instructed her and pushed the pillow beneath Catherine's behind a second later. Satisfied with the result, he knelt between her spread thighs and once again he took in the gorgeous sight she offered him, most likely unaware about the marvelous way she looked.   
"Now I will fuck you like I’ve never fucked you before", he announced and stroked her wet center with his fingers. "Do you want me to fuck you?" Henry asked, while his index finger teased her clit mercilessly.   
"Yes." Catherine's voice trembled with desire and Henry slowly moved over her. His lips touched hers while his hot and throbbing penis rubbed against her thigh. He ran his tongue over her teeth and lips until they opened, inviting him in. His kiss was tempestuous, wet and demanding.

"My pleasure, doll." Putting aside his last containment, Henry let go and with one single thrust, he finally took his wife. A low moan echoed through the room, but even with the best of will Henry couldn't tell if it escaped his own or Catherine’s throat.   
He couldn’t manage one clear thought, the only thing he could do right now was feel. He felt her tight, wet center clasping around his cock, he felt Catherine's soft, sensual body rearing up under him and he felt her lips on his lips, kissing him with feverish passion. Henry lifted his lower body and waited for two sweet, nerve-racking seconds, before he thrust back into her waiting body, penetrating her even deeper than before. He kept on thrusting into her, faster and faster, gasping for breath.   
Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, united in that ancient rhythm of passionate lovemaking.   
"Does that feel good?" Henry wanted Catherine to completely come undone, he needed her to give herself to him without holding anything back. He needed her to admit how good it felt to be taken. That she was his to take. Therefore, he shifted his weight and pushed into her with full might to get the desired reaction.   
"Dear Lord!" Catherine was screaming and he felt her body start to tremble and shake in earnest. Too early, Henry thought, because she had not yet said the cathartic words he wanted to hear. 

Therefor he forced himself to pause, even though this pausing demanded all self-control he could muster.   
"Don't stop!" The desperation in her voice made Henry confident of victory.   
"Don’t stop what exactly?" He asked her innocently, briefly drawing circles with his lower body. "Fucking you?"  
He didn't know how long he could resist the urge to move. But he wanted Catherine to say it. He wanted her to beg him to take her. To finally elicit the words of redemption from her, Henry thrust into her once more, this time from another angle and judging from her reaction, he knew that he had hit the right spot.  
A guttural moan escaped Catherine's throat and he felt the sound vibrating against his lips that were eagerly kissing hers.   
"Yes! Fuck me. Please," she pleaded as soon as he released her mouth. Her words shot straight to his cock and uncaged his last constraints that was holding him back until this very moment. 

Henry raised his pelvis and a mere second later he forcefully rammed into her waiting body. Over and over again. Until he didn’t know where his body ended and hers began. They became one, hurrying towards frenzied salvation. They were swept away in a swirl of ecstatic desire and buried beneath a wave of passion. He felt her inner walls contract around him, uncontrollably milking his penis.   
When Henry finally emptied his load into her wildly twitching body, stars started dancing before his mind’s eyes. Motionless, he collapsed over her and listened to the sound of her heart that was hammering against her ribs. It took him a few minutes before he was able to move again.   
His eyes scurried over Catherine, who was still blindfolded and tied to his bed, breathing heavily. Henry stroked her cheek with his right hand in awe.   
"Lift your head, I will remove the blindfold." Catherine did as she was told and it took Henry a good minute before he had loosened the knot, since his arms were trembling from exhaustion.   
When Catherine looked up at him, squinting her still light-sensitive eyes, Henry breathed a sigh of relief once he realized that it was only astonishment and satisfaction he saw written on her beautiful face. Thus he bent down and stole another kiss from his wife.

Next, he set about freeing her from her bonds.   
"Are you okay?" Henry asked and massaged her wrists to reflate her circulation.   
"I think so." Catherine sounded a little confused, as if she was not yet quite able to master her emotions, but Henry decided to accept her answer for the time being and to give her some time to process the things she had just experienced.   
Sexual varieties of this kind were nothing new for him. But for his wife. And despite the brief trace of panic, Catherine did great. She had turned her head off and had completely given herself to him. Henry sensed a feeling of pride welling up in him. Following an impulse, he stroked her cheek lovingly. This was his way of praising her and showing her that he was proud. Then he reached over for his wine and handed it to his wife. 

"Here, have a drink," he instructed her. With a barely perceptible nod, she accepted the goblet and emptied it greedily, which prompted Henry to chuckle with amusement. When Catherine was done, her gaze wandered over to the feather lying on the mattress. She was about to reach for it when she discovered the riding crop that Henry had placed on one of the pillows.  
"Did you plan to use it?" she asked after a short moment’s hesitation, and a faint accusation was evident in her tone of voice.   
Henry swung his legs over the edge of the mattress and rose in an effort to blow out the candles he had lit. But first he circled the bed and bent down to tenderly kiss Catherine’s forehead.   
"Just in case you’d misbehave," he told her, reminding her that every future punishment she was about to receive lay in her own hands from now on. She would always have a choice. The choice between unimaginable pleasures like the ones she had experienced just now or corporal punishments, should her rebellious nature ever gain the upper hand.

For he had decided to only chastise her in cases where she deserved it. In the past, he had sometimes punished other women for no other reason but his pleasure. With Catherine however, things were different. He was sure that rather sooner than later she would not be able to control her defiant temper, which would inevitably lead to her next punishment. Thus he did not have to induce a special scenario, since Catherine would surely tempt fate by herself. He was sure of that. And he was sure that he would enjoy it all the more.   
Maybe she would learn to enjoy her punishments as well. As he had learned today, slight pain while making love excited her, even though Catherine was certainly not yet aware of the consequences of her reaction. It certainly couldn't hurt to pursue this realization further. At least not him.

"Do you need anything before we go to sleep?" he asked her and by the surprised expression on her face he realized that she hadn't expected any cautiousness on his part. "Maybe a second helping of dessert?" Henry remembered that Catherine had spurned most of it today due to their upcoming activities and he felt the desire to reward her somehow.   
The promise of some sweet delicacy drove the last remaining lethargy out of his wife’s body.   
"Yes, some chocolate mousse. With plenty of cream. Also puff pastry tartlets, garnished with candied apple sauce." 

Henry nodded in amusement. His wife never failed to amaze him. Therefore he ordered a plate with all of her favorites. They shared their desert in bed - unclothed and in consensual silence. Once they were done, Henry pulled Catherine into his arms, placed a tender kiss on her lips and wished her a good night.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"Henry? What's wrong? Am I not pleasing you anymore?" Kenna's voice penetrated Henry's ear canal and prompted him to sigh in frustration. His young mistress looked up at him from under long lashes. Her big doe-like eyes stared at him accusingly with wounded pride.  
With a flick of his wrist, Henry stripped the used sheep intestine overcoat off his penis and carelessly threw it away. The sense of satisfaction that usually set in after having sex, however, did not arise. Nor enthusiasm for his young mistress.  
Today he had experienced a hard time adjusting to Kenna and her needs. In fact, he had found it extremely difficult to even muster interest for her. Not only on a mental but also on a physical level. 

Only when his mind had drifted back to his recent lovemaking with Catherine, did his manhood revive. A fact he acknowledged with mixed feelings. Quite obviously his wife had enchanted him. Or maybe Kenna's allurement was fading. Maybe both. 

"Leave," he muttered for a lack of suitable words. He did not feel like explaining himself to Kenna. And what exactly should he tell her in the first place if even he didn't understand what was wrong with him? All he knew was that he was not willing to deal with Kenna or her childish insecurities any longer.  
"Henry?" Instead of obeying his order, Kenna grabbed his arm and looked up at him with teary eyes.  
"I have told you to leave," the King of France flared up in anger and withdrew his arm from her grasp.  
The brusqueness of his words made his mistress flinch. Then she jumped out of bed in search for her clothes. Once she was finally dressed, Kenna fled without another word and Henry breathed a sigh of relief. 

In the near future, he would forbear inviting Kenna into his bedchamber. Not with Catherine at his beck and call, the woman he desired beyond all measure as of late.  
Three days had passed since their love making. So it was about time to take up taming his stubborn wife.  
The very idea of this prospect filled him with new energy and ignited his sexual appetite.  
Thus Henry called for his servants to prepare a hot bath and to change the linen of his bed. Then he called Yves, the captain of his guards and one of the few people whom he trusted blindly and instructed him to summon Catherine to his chambers. Usually his wife acknowledged Yves’ authority and Henry knew that frivolous secrets of any kind were safe with the quiet soldier, since he was loyal to the marrow. 

Just when Henry had made himself comfortable for an early dinner after his bath, Yves re-entered his chamber. The other man’s gaze didn’t reveal much, but Henry knew from his rigid posture that his encounter with Catherine had not been to Yves' liking. At his questioning glance, the face of the captain transformed into a regretful grimace.  
"Your wife refuses. And I quote: Tell Henry, not today.”  
This information made Henry leap up in disgruntlement. The knife he had been cutting a slice of salami off with fell onto his plate with a rattled noise.  
"Shall I..." Yves didn't get a chance to finish his question.  
"No, I shall personally pass my answer to Catherine!" Even before he had finished talking, Henry Valois stormed out of his chamber and ran down the corridor leading to his wife's adjoining premises. 

"Henry?!" Catherine, who was regally luxuriating on her divan and was having a light supper herself, did not seem in the least surprised by his visit, but put a grape in her mouth with a audacity that was second to none. "Didn't Yves tell you that..."  
Even before Catherine could swallow the grape, the King of France rushed towards her, grabbed her arm and tore her into an upright position.  
"When I summon you, I expect you to obey at once, woman," he short-temperedly growled and tried to stare Catherine down with sheer willpower. But his wife looked up at him with her chin stubbornly raised and without the slightest hint of remorsefulness in her gaze.  
"This order certainly does not apply in case of indisposition," she said with a hint of triumph in her voice. A reaction that inevitably prompted Henry to strengthen the grip around her upper arm. 

"You look very agile for someone who claims to be indisposed." His response was an angry growl. But Catherine didn’t seem impressed in the least by his outbreak.  
"And you know this because you’re an expert for women and their menstrual cycle?" Her words dripped with mockery and caused Henry to shove her away in order to examine her thoroughly. Apparently Catherine had already retired since she was only wearing a robe with a cream-colored nightdress beneath it. Her usually pinned up hair was down and woven into a beautiful braid. All things considered Catherine looked good enough to eat, but not indisposed.

"You have your monthly bleedings?" he asked skeptically and he instantly became exasperated with his wife for having the insolence to roll with her eyes at his question.  
"Yes. So you will surely understand, that the things you’re after are out of question tonight. And now I would like to ask you to leave. I’m in no mood for company right now."  
Before Catherine could even blink, Henry grabbed her by the neck. A second later he pressed her into a kneeling position with brute force.  
"Listen carefully, doll. When I call for you, you will show up immediately. And it is up to me to decide whether you are indisposed or not. Have I made myself clear?"

Henry's steel-hard grip around her neck forced Catherine to look up at him. Besides surprise, he saw a hint of fright flashing up in her eyes. A reaction that put a grim smile on Henry’s face. Since she didn’t answer his question, he clasped her chin with his fingers.  
"Did you hear me?"  
He only loosened his grip when Catherine nodded in understanding.  
"Are you in pain?" Henry asked her, and in his arrogating glare lay the silent threat to stick to the truth.  
"No," was her answer after a short moment’s hesitation, that prompted Henry to nod in grim determination.  
"Well, then it's time for you to learn that there are also other ways a woman can please her husband."  
Her puzzled look told him that she could not quite follow his train of thought and had not yet grasped the full extent of what was about to happen. 

"Open my pants," Henry instructed Catherine, lurking for her reaction. He could see her swallowing hard, but then she timidly tampered with the fastener of his pants. All the while trying hard not to touch his already half-erect penis. Henry smiled with the knowledge that Catherine would do much more than just touch his member in the next few minutes. She just did not know it yet.  
"Take him out," he told her in a hoarse voice. Even now his wife hesitated.  
"Catherine..." The way he pronounced her name was a warning. Finally, Henry felt her fingers on his dick and with one movement of his hand he pulled his open trousers off his legs.  
"Caress him." Catherine seemed anything but happy about this order, yet she obeyed. Her delicate fingers closed around his shaft and Henry closed his eyes once they started sliding up and down his length. He indulged in this heavenly blissfulness for a few minutes, but then he placed his fingers over hers to stop her.  
"Take him into your mouth."

"What?!" Catherine tried to free herself, but Henry beat her to it for he grabbed her by her shoulders to keep his wife in a kneeling position.  
"You have heard right, doll. Suck my dick."  
"You can't be serious!" Catherine stared at him wide-eyed, then she started fighting him in earnest. But Henry overpowered her and tightened his grip on her body.  
"Stop it, I’m dead serious. And if I have to ask you a third time, you will see where that will get you. My crop loves your ass." He could tell by her shocked expression that Catherine remembered all too well the 60 lashes he had punished her with in the past.  
"And if you bite me, the last punishment you have received will feel like a walk in the park compared with what awaits you now" he warned her for his own health’s sake. By all means, Catherine was capable of putting her teeth into action just to express her displeasure with his behavior. 

"Henry, we have never..." He interrupted her once again.  
"Then it’s about time. Come on, I don’t want to repeat myself." With an insistent glare, Henry tried to force his will upon his wife.  
Like before, Catherine hesitated briefly before she wrapped her lips around his glans. At this sight, Henry had to close his eyes to avoid coming at once.  
What a glorious sight it was, having a submissive Catherine de Medici kneeling in front of him with his penis in her mouth!

A deep groan echoed off the walls of his chamber. Henry's hands buried themselves in her hair while he indulged in her timid caresses. Only when Catherine gasped for air, did Henry dare to open his eyes. Loosening his grip around the back of her head, he did not release her completely, but merely allowed her a few seconds to catch her breath and relax her jaw. Then he pulled her closer again and registered in delight that her mouth opened on its own accord to accept his member.  
"Very good," he praised her and let his fingers gently glide over the nape of her neck. "Take me deeper into your mouth." Catherine's eyes widened at his words, but Henry left her no chance to refuse him.  
"Suck me, doll," he demanded and gave her time to adjust and to take his penis deeper into her mouth, even though it took all his self-control not to violently ram into her. 

Only when Catherine made choking noises, did Henry let go of her head and he allowed her to desist from his member to catch her breath.  
"Henry..."  
"Not one more word, Catherine. We are not finished here. What are you waiting for?" To give his words even more expression, he relentlessly grabbed her by the neck and pressed her face against his crotch area.

Henry loved it when women pleased him orally and usually his mistresses were experienced in that special way of satisfying a man’s needs. Catherine, however, had never orally satisfied him before since there had been no need. After all, their efforts in their marital bed had always been focused on conceiving children. Now, however, things had changed between them and Catherine had to learn to let her husband have his way with her. Any way.

This thought alone, combined with the sight of her, kneeling in front of him, sucking his dick, made his blood boil. Henry moaned ecstatically and emptied his load in his wife's mouth, who immediately sank down on all fours and started to heave in earnest. With an expression of pure disdain, Catherine spit out the content of his sexual release.  
Henry just stood there and stared at his wife with his pants down, breathing heavily.  
"Are you done? Have you humiliated me enough for today?" she asked him sharply after she had gathered herself and poisonous arrows shot at him right out of her dangerously sparkling eyes. Arrows that ricocheted from Henry without effect.  
"You brought this upon yourself, Catherine. Maybe you will let this be a lesson to you and obey the next time I order you to do something." With these words he straightened his clothes and left his wife's chambers. 

With his heart pounding wildly against his ribcage, Henry Valois reached his chambers. Completely out of breath he entered the room and closed the door, then he fell back against it and closed his eyes in exhaustion. But the image of his wife, kneeling on the floor and looking up at him accusingly with a glare that was veiled by pure hatred haunted him. The ghost of an image he could not chase away.  
Heaven knew what had prompted him to get carried away and treat Catherine so unyieldingly. But her refusal to obey his orders had made him lose his head.  
Yes, Catherine's rebellious behavior had annoyed the hell out of him, but he was even more annoyed by himself. And he was annoyed about the fact that he had lost his composure. And to worse things, he had omitted her physical indisposition. She may have negated his question if she was in pain, but still, this fact was only a small consolation in his opinion.

Henry did not know what it was that made him lose control when confronted with his wife. All he knew was that no other woman got under his skin the way Catherine did.  
One rebellious glare, a defiantly raised chin or a stubborn refusal to follow his order were enough to drive him to the brink of madness.  
But what if one day he crossed an unforgivable line at some point during their wicked games? What if his lack of self-control would cause Catherine serious harm?  
He forced himself to take a deep breath and slowly expel the air from his lungs afterwards. He did this again and again until he regained some control over himself. 

In the future, he would no longer let her provoke him beyond reason. After all, it was him who was calling the shots here. He was the king of France and Catherine was his wife and his property. She was his doll and he was the one pulling the strings.  
Sooner or later she would learn to sexually submit to him by choice. And until then, he would have to exercise in self-control to protect her from herself and from him.


End file.
